


Heads or Tails?

by BazookaBazooka



Category: Hunter X Hunter, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Brutality, Gen, Original Character-centric, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Spin (JoJo), Tall oc, This mf so bougie he uses coins as weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazookaBazooka/pseuds/BazookaBazooka
Summary: Gyoubu Oniwa can spin things by touching them. Ridiculously fast. So fast that a spinning coin won't tear skin by touching someone, it'll make the muscle underneath curl in on itself. It's fortunate he became a hero (regardless of his reasons). Slight crossover elements of Spin from JoJo, and Gotoh from Hunter x Hunter.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1: Romance dawn

Chapter 1: Romance dawn

There will always be children bullies are drawn to. Maybe an interesting appearance, a verbal tic, a disability, a humiliating quirk; if there was anything at all that people could make fun of, they would. When he was young, Gyoubu was one of those children.

Until the day. 

“Gyoubu, Gyoubu, Gyoubu the demon!” They jaunted, forming a ring of their tiny bodies around him. Why was he a demon? His family name had the word “oni” in it, and he had red eyes. That was it. 

“My mum told me demons need to be beaten!” One brave child said, to cheers and agreement from the rest, and slowly the chant changed to “Beat the, beat the, beat the demon!”. Around the same time, they started calling him a villain, and with it, kicks and stones began to be thrown.

Tears streamed like rivers down his face, features contorted into a truly demonic scowl- well, as much as a prepubescent child could scowl. Merely 8 years old, and Gyoubu had experienced true hatred for another person.

‘I want to fight back’

‘I need to fight back’

‘I need to fight’

His quirk was simple, he could spin objects as long as they were touching his skin, and weighed less than him. But when you could rev anything up to thousands of rpm in a few seconds, anything could become a weapon. He had never realised this until he grabbed a coin from his pocket, threw all his energy into spinning it as fast as he could, and shoved it straight in the face of one of his attackers. 

Screech

The boy’s face twisted in on itself.

The cracking of bones resonated.

Gyoubu had never known flesh made that noise when it tore. 

The sound was an orchestra Gyoubu had never heard.

And he loved it.

The day became known as “The Twister Incident”, yet another entry in a long list of quirk-related injuries that were so commonplace in early schooling. Toddlers and young children with potentially deadly quirks had the tendency to turn schools into more of a part-time hospital, to the point where teachers had almost the same qualifications as nurses and doctors.

To Gyoubu though, it took a while before life was the same again. Most, if not all, quirk injuries were total accidents; perhaps an attempt at showing off, or using a quirk during a game and losing control. Gyoubu had done it intentionally, and that was all his classmates needed to know for them to isolate him further.

Gyoubu agreed with them. If he wasn’t a demon before, then he sure as hell was now. He was still a little too young for true self-hatred, but when his classmates would single him out he didn’t feel the same defiance; it was just his punishment for doing what he did. 

Yet, those were only his surface level feelings. What lied below, was pure pride. Why should he feel bad for attacking his classmate? If he didn’t want to get his face torn, he should have just dodged. Better yet, he could’ve stopped bullying Gyoubu.

Even deeper, was the fact he relished the memory. The way the blood threw itself into the air like a garden hose, the way the flesh took a shape wholly unnatural, and that satisfying crunch when his nose snapped. Every detail imprinted itself into Gyoubu’s memory, to be enjoyed during his dreams and darkest moments. 

He knew those were bad, naughty things to think though, so he simply didn’t think about them. He would go into school, get teased a little (they never did anything serious, not after he nearly killed one of them for it), head home (sometimes daring to wonder where his father went), and try to sleep without thinking bad thoughts. 

And so it continued.

Yet, there would be little slips, as he liked to call them, every so often. 

The very first time happened on a hot, humid summer day, and after a long day of school.

Walking home from school, as usual, he saw a bird lying on the ground. 

“What are you doing down there? Why can’t you fly?” He asked it, half expecting the bird to fly away, merely to avoid his judgemental gaze. He looked closer, and realised its wing was bent in a painful-looking way.

“Oh. You were too weak to keep your wing safe? Those are your life, birdie, why didn’t you take better care of them?” The little red robin merely tweeted at him. 

“Some other animal’s gonna eat you if you can’t fly away.”

He gazed into the eyes of the thing. 

“I don’t want that.”

He raised his foot.

Bird’s bones were hollow, which made them produce a satisfying snapping noise.

He made sure to clean off his shoe before arriving at home.

A year or so passed like a blur, and so did another, and then another, until he found himself about to enter junior high school, a little after his 12th birthday. Again, he was walking home from school, as it seemed all his life-changing moments happened on the walk home. He was caught up in thinking about a show he had watched, an incredibly entertaining one about what the Olympics used to be, before quirks made them obsolete. He loved the idea of people competing against each other with only their talent and bodies. And steroids, lots, lots of steroids. But that was water under the bridge. His thoughts were rudely interrupted by him walking into a barrier, one he recognised as belonging to the police, used only when a villain was attacking a hero.

Instant excitement coursed through his body; he had never seen a villain fight in real life! Who would win? Forget about that, who was the hero? The villain? What were their quirks? Would it be violent or full of one-up-manship? He got his answer as soon as he looked up.

Deatharms was the hero (how on Earth was that name approved?) and some other grisly-looking, muscular villain was his assailant. His cheeks hurt from grinning when he saw what they were doing.

It was an absolute slugfest. 

A complete and utter battle of attrition. Little bits of spittle and teeth and blood littered the ground around them, only increasing in quantity every strike was exchanged. Oh speaking of strikes, each one shook the damn sky. Both combatants had almost entirely forgotten about dodging, parrying, anything except for slamming into their opponent with every tenet of force they possessed. 

It belonged in a museum, he humbly thought. It would definitely be in his mental museum, at least. 

They went on for what felt like only seconds more, before Deatharms landed one final cannon to the villain’s jaw, and dropped him like a stone. Gyoubu nearly cried. He urged the villain to get back up, to carry on going, to just fight for half a second longer. But he got no such luck, and it seemed god didn’t want to treat him too much, just yet.

The police officer near him must’ve noticed his distraught face, and placed a hand on his head, as if to comfort him.

“You worried for Deatharms, kid? Don’t. Heroes are made of the strongest stuff you’ll ever find, and Deatharms might be even stronger. They gotta be strong though, fighting is essentially their job, and getting roughed up like that is just part of the job description. Look, what I mean is he’ll be fine, now head off home, your parents’ll be worried.” 

It hit him.

Harder and faster than any of Deatharms’ or the villain’s punches.

Heroes fight people.  
As a public service.

And no one can tell them it’s wrong.

His career was settled from that day on.


	2. Chapter 2: On your marks, get set, spin.

Gyoubu had always wanted to fight, battle, eviscerate, but that didn’t mean he had ever actually tried to get better at any of those. His body was nothing less than utterly average, and he’d only practiced spinning pens with his quirk. And why would any of that be different? He wasn’t supposed to fight people, that was bad, regardless of him wanting to, so why would he practice something he wasn’t going to do?

But now it was different.

Still though, he had absolutely no idea what to do. His mother couldn’t afford a martial arts gym membership for him, there weren’t any clubs at his school that did anything useful in that regard, so eventually he just decided to do it himself. Do what though? Luckily, google came to his rescue in that regard. For kids his age, light bodyweight training, and short runs were the best for slowly building muscle. Of course, he shouldn’t even attempt weight lifting or serious routines until he was older and more developed. His family did have a set of dumbbells in their storage though…

That was how Gyoubu ended up finding out that he adored weight lifting, and all the pain from it. Something about the searing ache in his muscles made him feel more alive than ever, and the muscle soreness the next day only made sure that he would get addicted to it. He knew he would end up overworking himself though, but instead of making the logical choice of doing less intense exercise, he just forced himself to eat and sleep more. 

Surprisingly, his body didn’t crumple from it all. As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Gyoubu found out that his body was exceptionally resilient, and would take any battering, and turn it into progress. Unfortunately for his dreams of becoming reminiscent of All Might, his body didn’t look much different, since he only really worked on explosive, strength oriented workouts. Still though, a newfound love for running didn’t exactly make him fatter. 

But on developing any semblance of combat technique? Or even trying to work on his quirk? He’d come up on empty. At least for a while.

He’d just come home from shopping for his mother, only a few days off from his 13th birthday, when he got dragged into a side-alley. It happened in just a fraction of a second: a hand larger than his face muffled his mouth, while another hand grabbed his arm and tore him from the street. A voice spoke from behind him, that could only belong to whoever grabbed him.

“Money. Now. You went shopping so you have money. Give it.” The voice spoke in short, sharp sentences, dripping with danger. 

“No.” Gyoubu responded before thinking, regretting it as soon as the hand began to heat up against his face until it was just painful, without being enough to injure.

“Give.” The younger boy supressed his defiance this time, reaching into his pocket for his money, mostly just coins and hande-

How did he forget? 

His most treasured memory. And he forgot the most useful part. How shameful.

He plucked out a single coin, and commanded it to spin. And it complied. At first it made a noise like a helicopter, but a fraction of a second later it turned into a vacuum cleaner, and a further fraction later it simply hummed. He held it in the palm of his hand, ignoring how it burned his skin, and slammed it mercilessly into his robber’s abdomen. Through the coin he could feel the skin of the man twisting instantly, and heard fabric tear.

For Gyoubu the moment lasted a nervous year, but for the mugger, a half second of noise, before his world erupted into pain. 

Gyoubu felt warmth seep from the man onto his back.

He then felt the hand lose its warmth, and slip off of his face. 

And finally, he heard the thud of the man’s body hitting the ground.

He screamed. Not out of disgust, not out of trauma, but a guttural, bellowing scream of victory. The scream only got louder once he saw the unconscious body of the man, with a 5-centimetre-wide hole in his stomach. It was an absolute victory, in the worst possible position, against a fully grown adult. How could he be anything else than euphoric?

Of course, his scream also alerted people nearby to his location, and anyone nearby rushed to help whatever child was screaming like that. The unfortunate scene of a child standing over a bleeding body greeted them, and the same scene greeted the police officers who arrived soon after. 

That evening ended up being one of the longest of Gyoubu’s life. Officer after officer asked him about what happened, how he was feeling, where his mum was, how he knew his quirk could do that, why he did what he did, and countless other repetitive questions. Then of course, came the scare.

“Oniwa, do you know what a vigilante is?” The officer asked with an unnecessarily childish tone.

“Uhm yeah, someone who does hero stuff but isn’t a hero, so it’s illegal.” 

“Good good, but the reason it’s illegal is because of quirk laws, I’m sure you’ve been taught about those?” Gyoubu nodded. “Good, and those laws mean that no one can use their quirks in public, especially not to hurt other people. As soon as you do that, you’re a villain, and vigilantes are only really different from villains because they think they are. Do you understand what I mean?”

Unfortunately, Gyoubu did. Damnit damnit damnit damnit! He always knew this would happen to him eventually. No one normal would use their quirk to hurt someone. No one normal would want to hurt anyone. Gyoubu did though. Villains did, too. He panicked, only able to think of what would happen if he was classed as a villain. 

“No, no, there’s no need to panic. What I left out saying was there are still self-defence laws in place for situations like this. Those laws are also far more lenient to people as young as you. There’d be absolutely no point trying to punish you for this, considering all the older kids that have gotten away with worse.” The red-eyed boy felt his soul return back to his body, yet only for a brief second.

“But, we can’t just ignore that this has happened, and if something like this happens again, we won’t have a choice in treating this as vigilantism. Make sure you keep your head down, ok kid? Avoid trouble like hell, if you wanna be able to get a good job when you get a little older. You can head off home now, and off record, I think your quirk would be amazing if you could control it a little more.” Gyoubu’s face turned into a tomato at the praise, an uncontrollable grin rising. “I’m sorry that this happened on a school night of all things, I’m sure you could take the day off tomorrow. Run off now, have a good night.”

“Thank you, officer!” He sung, hopping off the stall he’d been perched on for the past few hours, and allowing himself to be escorted back to his worn-out looking mother. Said mother then fretted over him like the hen she was, making sure to kiss his hand to help it heal. 

His mother was a busy woman, usually at work when Gyoubu was awake, but he still treasured her above gold and diamonds combined. Every moment she spent at home was dedicated to him and only him, so it wasn’t his fault if he got a little teary when she hugged him the way she did.

That night he slept well, dreaming of battle and the addictive feeling of slamming coins into people. In his sleep, Gyoubu grinned and mouthed a single word:

'Victory'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter done. I'm aiming to maintain this pace for the remainder of Gyoubu's childhood, but once UA starts I'll focus a lot more on character interactions, and detail.
> 
> Until next time, thank you so much for reading.


	3. Stick the knife in, and twist it.

The white-haired, red-eyed boy stood in the middle of his back garden, holding a 5-yen coin in his hand. He took a deep breath, before the penny erupted into motion. Like a Beyblade being let rip, it spun and spun until it was merely a blur. The smell of burnt meat slowly began to fill the air as the coin wore away at the boy's skin, yet he merely spun the coin faster.

Eventually, the coin stopped speeding up, and the boy jammed the coin into the loose dirt beneath him. The ground threw itself into the air violently, creating a half-metre wide gorge in the ground, joining the 10 or so other holes that littered the unkempt end of the yard.

Gyoubu had been at it for 20 minutes at that point, constantly pushing his quirk harder and harder, to spin the coin faster and faster, and reach its top speed sooner and sooner. He'd heard quirks were like muscles, right? He knew how to train those: constant repetition, with an increasing intensity.

He was coming upon another problem though: his hands. A few coins ago, he'd had to switch to his left hand for rotating, since the skin on his right was blistered and peeling, with occasional blackened spots. Could skin be trained? What about uh… callouses! That was the word. If his skin was worked and then healed, it'd get harder and more resilient. Like a muscle. A lot of things in the world worked like muscles, he surmised. He looked up from his hands for a moment, seeing his mother poking her head out of the back door.

"Gyoubu, dinner's rea- what on Earth have you done to the garden?!"

Oh no.

From that day on, he practiced in parks, or anywhere that wasn't his house, to avoid his mother's wrath. Progress on his quirk was slow going, with most of the actual development being shown through the thick callouses he sported. However, he eventually came to the realisation that he didn't really have to make his quirk super-duper powerful. The damage his coins would do was far, far more than heroes were permitted to do, so there wasn't much point trying to make them even harder hitting. Pounding coins into the ground was a massive stress reliever though, funnily enough.

Sometimes though, he wouldn't just slam coins into the ground with his hand. Heroes needed to be effective at all ranges, right? Coins could be flicked. That was how Gyoubu lost his thumbnails, but also found out that coins still did damage, even when they weren't in contact with him for the entire time. He also found out that it was just better to not have most of his thumbnails, they got in the way.

Levelling up was fun, and imagining the ground was a human didn't hurt either.

The bell rung, signifying the end of the school day. Head full of imaginings of spinning coins and (mostly) what was for dinner, Gyoubu let autopilot take over and bring him home, content to leave unbothered. Exiting the classroom though, he paused for a moment, looking at all the faces he could never quite remember the names for.

He always had the vague awareness that he didn't have any proper friends. There would be the people he sat with at lunch, idly chatted with, but he never sought them out any other time. Should he try? His mother did say he was welcome to invite anyone he wanted to their house.

All while debating it in his head, he thumbed a worn out, dented coin in his pocket. Soon enough, that familiar itch to spin things overwhelmed the argument, and set him back on his walk home. He didn't need to worry about that right now, if he ever desperately needed friends, he could probably find some decent ones. He wasn't some weirdo.

Enjoying his walk, he nearly missed the gecko-like man in the alleyway crouched over the unmoving body.

Gyoubu never forgot the feeling of winning a fight. The taste of it he'd already had had only served to make him even hungrier. Perhaps that's why the thought of just calling the police never even crossed his mind.

Could he use his coins? Damnit, no. That'd be quirk use, he couldn't get caught doing that anymore.

'All I have is my body, huh?'

Why did that just make him more excited?

His arm grabbed a brick before he even knew it was a brick, and his legs shot him forward before he even gave the command.

CRACK

Not for a single second did he hold back.

So why did the man not fall?

His head whipped forward, sure, but his body just wavered for a second, before regaining its balance.

"Who the fuck're you?" Now Gyoubu got a closer look at the man's face, he thought that he might've picked the wrong person to start off his vigilantism with. Its scales were coated with blood and dirt, and lined with rough, faded scars. Most strikingly though, was the mouth of dinosaur-like teeth, with almost half of them missing.

But no, he couldn't leave the job half-done, and he couldn't stop attacking if he wanted to win, not while he still had the jump on lizard-man. Again, before his mind even finished thinking that thought, he found his fist buried into the older man's gut.

'If his head's so strong, I'll just go somewhere else!'

Just as he fervently hoped, that strike got more of a reaction. Spittle flew out of the scaled man's maw, and for a second he coughed as he tried to regain his breath. Gyoubu's triumph only lasted a second though, since in the very next moment, he was slammed into the opposite end of the alley by what felt like a tree trunk.

"A kid? What the fuck are you fighting me for, you idiot? That shit hurt!" His opponent hissed at him.

The white-haired boy drearily looked back at the criminal, eyes still spinning from being catapulted into a collection of trash cans.

'What even hit me? His arms and legs both stayed sti- oh. Lizard. Tail. Right.'

He cursed under his breath, having yet another thing to look out for, then cursed again when he realised it only made him happier.

"Look kid, I really don't like fighting underage people. I dunno why you're attacking me but if you scram right the fuck now, I'll look the other way. You probably have parents, don't worry 'em for no damn reason." It was probably a little late to not worry his mum, judging from the way he felt a warmth escape from the back of his head, where it had hit the wall, and dribble down his neck.

Gyoubu opened his mouth to answer.

His foot did the talking though, taking him across the gap that separated them in a split second, feinting a straightforward punch, before planting itself right in the man's crotch.

SQUEAL

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!" The great beast groaned into the filthy pavement.

Of all the hits, that was the one that toppled him. Gyoubu was almost embarrassed for him.

His foot didn't seem to be done talking though, judging from how it stomped on the back of green, scaled head.

Again.

And again.

And again.

A puddle of blood slowly formed.

Again.

And again.

The 13-year-old finally stopped once his shoes started tearing apart at the soles.

And he breathed, feeling his adrenaline, the sickeningly addictive feeling, fade into the back of his mind.

His head raised itself to the sky, staring at the clouds and birds, and for the first time in his life, felt even more free than the sky's inhabitants.

Victory.

He didn't scream this time, he simply ran home, only stopping at a drugstore to buy plasters for his split knuckles and bleeding toenails, and a bathroom to clean the back of his head.

He really should have stopped there. 2 criminals nearly killed by a barely teenaged boy? Surely that was enough to give him a good conscience? Apparently not. It was barely 24 hours before Gyoubu sought out another fight, in another back alley. This time a filthy, yet normal-looking, short man holding an older woman at knifepoint.

A brick to the head worked that time; most people weren't mutants.

The third time Gyoubu decided to be a vigilante though? Tall man, built like a brick house, holding an even bigger man by the neck with a single hand. Did that stop the scrawny little 13-year-old? Not for a single second. What followed was an utterly pathetic curb stomp.

He barely escaped with his life that time around. It was a little harder to explain to his mum why he came home with a foot shaped bruise on his head, but he worked around it.

The next day he took a rest from fighting, he wouldn't want to overdo it, not at all.

Gyoubu would've laughed til he bled if he knew people thought he did that. Every single day, no matter if it rained or snowed, no matter if the villain was a midget or a monster, no matter if they were in a group or alone, the idiotic teenager would throw himself at them with a grin on his face. Somewhere along the line he began wearing an unmarked, unpainted hockey mask, simply to disguise himself, but his reputation had already spread.

The White Demon of Chiba city, he heard himself being called a few times.

Why his grades got better, and people started referring to him as the "happy kid" since he started his vigilantism would forever be unknown to him, but they weren't unwelcome changes. Of course there was also the discovery of Second Rotation, another welcome change, but not much else happened. His reputation among his year wouldn't last much longer though, since Junior High School was winding down to its close, with high school entrance exams taking over most of his classmate's consciences. 

Two years of being a vigilante would change most people, perhaps it'd make them more jumpy? More cynical? Gyoubu was far too simple of a person for that to happen to him. All he saw were people who could fight him, that weren't wrong to fight. He didn't see criminals, he didn't see the undoubtedly tragic backstories that lead to his victims being there, he merely saw opponents. Some people, no, most people would call his desires shallow at best. Gyoubu'd probably agree with them.

That was usually where his train of thought ended when he thought about his reasons for doing what he did. Past that point he'd just get into useless semantics and running circles in his own head, and decide it didn't really matter as much as he thought it did. Getting caught up in the same train of thought usually ended up badly, as shown by him having walked straight into a tall, hunched over blonde man waiting at the same road crossing as him.

Apologies began streaming out of his mouth as he realised what he did, and streamed even faster when the same man began coughing blood as he got up.

"Oh my god I am so sorry sir are you ok do you need help I can call an ambulance or is this your quirk god I'm sorry should I get napkins??" He mumbled, frantically waving his hands and trying to help the man up. Of course this had to happen on the day of the UA entrance exams.

"No need to worry young man, I am fine." The older man replied, immediately invalidating his past sentence by coughing up another glob of blood, only barely caught by a handkerchief.

"Are you sure?"

Cough "One hundred-" Cough "Percent. It's just a past injury, nothing to worry about. Be more careful next time though, I could've easily been a frail senior citizen."

Gyoubu stared at practically the definition of a frail senior citizen, but merely nodded and apologised once more, before walking across the road and continuing his journey.

It was a little harder to ignore the older man when they both walked in the same direction until the train station, where even then they got on the same train, to Shizuoka. And then having to sit next to each other by virtue of a full carriage. The cap-wearing, red-eyed teenager began to sweat at the thought of picking up such a blatant stalker, and stole side-eyes at the blonde man to make sure he didn't try anything when he wasn't looking.

"Y'know young man, if we're seemingly going to the same place at the same time, it wouldn't hurt to strike up some conversation. What brings you here?" Gyoubu's sweating increased tenfold as now he had to make small talk.

"I uh, the uhm, UA entrance exam. Yup." He wanted to disappear.

The sickly-looking man eyed him for a sentence, before bursting into blood-flinging chuckles.

"Oh teenagers these days, you nervous lot. You're aiming to be a hero, correct?" Gyoubu slowly nodded, "to save someone, you can't stutter. You approach them with a smile on your face and calming words on your lips, to let them know that they're fine now. N-not to be too commanding though, I'm sure it's just exam nerves getting the better of you."

He could've sworn that small ribbons of steam escaped from the man's body when he spoke, but dismissed it as his imagination.

"Y-you have good advice; you sound like a hero yourself. Are you a retiree? Wait I'm not calling you old, I jus-" He was cut off halfway through his amendments with another chuckle, without blood this time.

"Ah, I haven't introduced myself have I? I'm no hero, my name is Toshinori Yagi, I work for All Might's hero agency."

'So he's not a stalker.'

'I think'

"Oh god you work for All Might? Man that's cool! I'm Gyoubu Oniwa. I work for the local twenty-four-hour convenience store."

And so he and Toshinori talked, mostly about what All Might was like in real life. Soon enough though, they ended up outside the colossal gates of UA.

"Wait, are you attending the entrance exam, sir?" Gyoubu asked once he realised the older man was too close to the school to be doing anything else.

"I'm a little old to take the exam, if that's what you're asking. I'm an assistant judge for one of the exam portions. Don't worry about any favouritism though, if any of the judges have met any of the examinees we just don't give a score. I'll be off then, young Oniwa, go break a leg." Goodbyes were wished, and the teenager took his first steps towards glory. 

He took his first steps towards tragedy at the very same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That little tidbit about Second Rotation wasn't just a nonsensical line, but it'll become important by USJ.
> 
> If the lizard villain didn't subconsciously hold back because of Gyoubu's age, the story would've ended this chapter, just sayin'
> 
> Thank you for reading, take care of yourselves!


	4. Why'd it have to be robots?

Grin on his face, bag in hand, and back still stinging from the farewell slap Mr Toshinori had given him, Gyoubu walked straight into the wrong door. He only really noticed it was the wrong entrance hall when he saw the billboard sized posters on the walls with inspirational quotes, but about the stock exchange, rather than heroics. After a sheepish apology to the… rather upper-class-looking management course examinees he shuffled back outside, regained his confidence, and this time walked into the heroics exam lobby.

The awkwardly waiting rabble of teenagers looked far more like what he would've expected for upcoming heroes, what with their flashy appearances and personalities. There were the brightly smiling extroverts, making friends like it was easy, probably as a way to get rid of nerves. Then there were the shy introverts, who in Gyoubu's experience had some of the strongest motives, but simply felt embarrassed to share them. Last but not least, there were the 'Hedgehogs'. The prickly type who snapped at anyone who tried making conversation. As he thought that, a sandy-haired boy did exactly that to another exam-taker.

Gyoubu considered himself a bit of everything. It wasn't like he couldn't make friends, he just never wanted to. Yep. Totally. But at the same time, he wasn't embarrassed by his motives, like the introverted types, his particular motives would just be a little off-putting to most people. He struggled to order for himself at restaurants, which was all the proof he needed for him not being a hedgehog.

He wondered whether the different personalities would take the exam differently, maybe their quirks changed their personali-

He was cut off mid thought by the unmissable voice of Present Mic, booming the instructions for the written exam. Fighting away the creeping touches of nerves with a deep breath, Gyoubu put his mind into study mode and braced himself.

In a surprise to most of his classmates, considering his easy-going expression during most classes, he was never the most book-smart person in the class. He wasn't exactly atrocious per se, but he was pretty damn close, usually scoring in the latter third of his school consistently. All this had caused even the White Demon of Chiba to take a break from breaking limbs, to cram for the exam like his life depended on it, because in a way, part of it did. 

He left the written exam having to hide his face with his hat. The beginning was so deceptively easy, but then BOOM, now they were testing him on stuff he'd never heard the name of. For the first time in his life, he regretted taking so many iron bars to the head. The physical exam really mattered.

Present Mic's explanation of the point system didn't really register in his mind after he learned they'd be fighting robots. Robots. Y'know, the things that were stronger than humans, yet wouldn't bat an eye -or was it camera? – at Second Rotation, the strongest thing he could throw at them.

He positively radiated joy.

How long had it been, years maybe, since he went into a fight with that big of a handicap? Not being able to use his quirk against criminals had stopped being a true handicap after the first few months, but stopped being exciting after the first few fights.

Oh god would the robots be made of strong metal? If it was thin he could probably find weak spots, maybe he could even punch through it? Hold on, didn't one of the fake villains have a gun attached? He knew how to work against those!

People shuffled away from him on the bus to the testing grounds, on account of his sharp-toothed grin, not that Gyoubu noticed. Even when that berth lasted to the entrance to the replica city, the smirking boy stayed firmly in his own imagination, fingers twitching towards the open bags clipped to his belt every so often.

For Gyoubu, the gigantic gates opened in slow motion.

That was always a good sign.

Sprinting through the gap the second it was wide enough, he could immediately see seven robots ahead of him. Two were out of his coin range, three could be reached if he flicked coins, but two were close enough to be reached by his limbs.

The first robot had exposed tubing in its neck area, and with a grip strength honed by grappling with fully grown adults, Gyoubu simply ripped a tube free. His right hand then disappeared into a waist pouch for the briefest of seconds, ripping out an already spinning coin, and jammed it into the cavity the other hand had created.

Well, they weren't real coins, he wasn't nearly rich enough for that. They were simply coin-sized disks he had made out of junk sheets of metal, that he had collected over years. The sheets had usually been thin enough that Gyoubu could just use a saw to cut them into shape, and all that remained afterwards was sanding down the sharp edges, so they wouldn't hurt him. Not any more than they already did, that is. 

A great churning of metal could've been heard as the robot was torn apart from the inside, yet it was completely drowned out by the characteristic turbine noise of First Rotation. Even Present Mic's announcements could scarcely be heard over the noise.

It was likely detrimental to his health, but Gyoubu had become completely used to the sound, so it barely made him pause as he whipped around to the second robot he was close enough to.

The second one had retreated slightly from its original position, likely to have room to aim the missile launcher it had on its 'shoulder'.

All it really did was give him a half second to flick coins at the closest three fake villains, with the insane amount of backspin helping to extend his range the extra few metres. Taking his eyes off the closer enemy had been a slight mistake though, forcing him to contort his body in an unnatural shape to dodge the approaching missiles even as he ran closer.

Letting the robot fire them ended up being a good decision though, since it opened up a new avenue for his coins to penetrate it. Gyoubu didn't know what the intelligence level of the thing was though, so first he feinted a coin to the 'eye' sockets, since they were likely another weak spot, before suddenly changing direction and slamming the coin into the barrel of the launcher.

But fuck, the launcher wasn't directly connected to the running of his enemy, and only stopped it for a moment. Already gritting his teeth and grunting, Gyoubu let himself slip on the whole 'weak spots are important' thing he promised to himself that he'd try, and just slammed his elbow into the side of the damn thing's head until it fell down, with him still on its shoulder.

His blooming irritation only increased when he saw that the three machines he'd already slowed down with coins had been poached by the faster examinees. His irritation lasted only the time it took for him to realise it was just another handicap, where it was replaced by another cheek-aching grin.

Stepping so hard he felt his entire body reverberate, he leaped off of the falling automaton and once more began his charge. He was forced to skid to a halt in the middle of the main street, as a robot slid out of an alleyway to meet him.

The very same robot found itself crumpled on the ground a second later, courtesy of a feral shoulder slam from the teenager, followed by a stomp through its neck joint.

Mechanics would've cried if they saw how rough Gyoubu was with the enemies from that point on. Like a bat out of hell, he tore past every examinee close to him, incapacitating the false enemies from a distance, before tearing apart their outer armour apart with another coin, or his bare hands if he got close enough.

If he had the breath to sing he would've, and he was sure he'd remember the day til he was eighty.

It was even enough to make the slowly growing pain seem less important, but not enough. Somewhere around his twenty-first takedown his hands began to bleed and burn more than he could ignore (mostly because of the smell), his thirtieth was when his thumbs stopped being able to flick coins, and thirty-seventh when he was forced to use only his legs, kicking his shoes off, so he could use his feet for his quirk.

Present Mic soon shouted that the exam would only have a minute left, and with his damn near useless arms he found himself almost relieved he'd get saved by the bell.

Of course, then someone let loose robotic Godzilla. The zero-pointer.

There hadn't been an eclipse in Gyoubu's lifespan, so the obstacle happened to be his first experience of the sun being blocked out.

He was sure no one had ever seen the moon and wanted to fight it, though. He looked up at the mountain, back down at his limp hands, at the mountain, back down at his nearly empty coin pouches, and decided that he had to live to fight, and humans were more satisfying than metal to break.

UA must have more of those things anyway, if he got in he'd probably see them again at some point.

But damn it, the world had a way of never giving him any respite. A few more streets from the exit to the false city, he saw a shaking boy huddled in a side alley, holding himself. More importantly was the fact that the building he was hiding behind was right in the path of the zero-pointer.

As much as Gyoubu wanted to see first-hand what it looked like when someone got crushed by rubble, Toshinori had said there were judges watching, and he doubted they would take too kindly to that sort of thing, and now that they'd seen him see the boy, he couldn't just leave him.

'Fuck you, random examinee.' He thought as he grabbed the protesting boy, cringing at the way his hands groaned and clicked when he did it, and carried him bridal style while he ran.

"I was gonna save this kinda thing for a woman. Damn judges better give me extra points or I swear to god I'm gonna shove a-" Gyoubu cut off his mumbling as the boy in his arms stopped protesting to look at him with concern.

"Uh, never mind. Do I smell bad?" The boy looked even more concerned after he asked that at the same time as smelling like a burnt corpse.

The rest of the run back to the entrance gates was only slightly awkward.

The UA nurse seemed determined to remove even more of his purity by literally kissing him better, but he was still grateful, since her quirk didn't reverse the injury, only sped up the healing, so he still got the callouses he thought he deserved.

If he got into UA, he'd buy her chocolates, he decided.

Gyoubu definitely wasn't nervous as he waited for his results; he never got nervous. It was just a coincidence that the White Demon's first week after his elongated absence happened to be his most brutal, most active week in his history. Even the birds in his parks felt the change, being used more and more for practice with Second Rotation than they ever had.

Fortunately for the entire organic population of Chiba City, UA was relatively speedy in sending out their letters. Still not at all nervous, Gyoubu span six coins at once on his left hand, while he opened the letter with his right. The coins all fell to the ground when the teen jumped three feet in the air at the sudden booming of All Might's voice.

"Young Oniwa! I am here, in holographic form! While it may come as a surprise to you, I will be a heroics course teacher in UA for the upcoming year!" Gyoubu really wanted to get into UA now. All Might was practically the epitome of pure strength and violence, even when his smiling face made people see him as the opposite. "Anyway, I'm on a rather tight schedule, what with so many letters to uhm, speak, so I'll get on with it. Your written exam was enough to be accepted in, though barely, with only a single mark separating you from the cut-off point, but your practical performance spoke for itself."

Cutting the feed of All Might's face was a leader board.

With Gyoubu tied with another candidate for third place.

"Your 53 villain points were more than enough to put you in second place, had they been the only parameter. But there were also Rescue Points, and your heroic actions to save your fellow examinee, even when you were injured, earned you the remaining twenty points! You've made it into UA, young Oniwa. This is your hero academia!"

The audio and video cut out simultaneously.

And Gyoubu fell to the ground laughing hysterically.

It took a good few minutes for him to regain enough composure to think properly. Then he remembered why he was laughing again and couldn't stop himself from breaking out into hysterics again.

He "saved" that random guy? He just didn't want the judges to call him a criminal! And it put him in third place? The greatest comedian in the world would never have been able to write that if they tried.

He did wonder who Izuku Midoriya was, though, and how he managed to get past the exam without a single villain point.

He'd be seeing him at school though, he supposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, me again. We're finally starting to reach canon, and I hope I paced it reasonably.
> 
> Second Rotation will get explained fairly soon, but anyone who's read JoJo part 7 will probably be able to guess what it is.
> 
> Gyoubu's whole vigilante thing is pretty much just a side hobby for him, which is why it really doesn't get any focus. Think of the narrator of this story as just Gyoubu telling his story.
> 
> Don't forget about those character tags though, I didn't just randomly choose unrelated characters.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading.


	5. The tests never seemed to stop

Gyoubu despised uniforms, but not out of any hatred for authority like some of his classmates, but simply because it was near impossible to find his size. He'd always been a tall boy, and the generous amount muscle mass he forced onto his lanky frame didn't make things any easier. UA was supposed to be a little different, as they offered custom sizing, but Gyoubu was growing a little too fast for that to be worth it, so just bought the size that approximately matched up with his height.

And for once, he actually thought he looked ok. The whole ensemble hugged his nearly two metre frame tightly, but stretched enough to let it still be comfortable. To supplement the school uniform, he also adorned a boxy, slightly too big, red cap. From the back and sides of it poked out his pure white hair, ruffled and fluffy. Matching the red cap, was his even deeper red eyes, deeply set in his gaunt face.

He looked like a middle-aged lumberjack, but he was ok with that. He liked to think that his dad looked a little like him, seeing as his mother was a brown-haired, purple-eyed, average-height woman, but there were no pictures of him at home to prove it. Shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts, he checked his bag once more, and left the house.

People on trains treated you a mile differently if you wore a UA uniform. Some people gave serious nods, others polite smiles, and children gave looks of awe. All in all, Gyoubu walked through the UA gates feeling damn near on top of the world. Of course, that made it all the more embarrassing that he had no idea where classroom 1-A was. After a small bit of searching, he managed to find a green-haired boy, muttering about 1-A, and followed him from a distance.

His classmate led him on a roundabout search, but ultimately ended up at the classroom. And damn, who the hell went to this school that was so tall, they needed to make the doors this big? Anyway, he strategically entered the classroom long enough after his classmate to not seem suspicious, and went about sizing up his classmates, practically ignoring the conversation between his unwitting guide, and a brown-haired girl. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by what seemed to be a camping homeless man.

"If you're here to socialize, get out." Conversation died out suddenly after he said that, but apparently not quick enough for him.

"It took you all four seconds to be quiet, you aren't a very rational lot, are you?" No one really knew how to respond to that.

"Well anyway, I'm Shouta Aizawa, your homeroom teacher." Aizawa paused to take out a UA sports uniform, tossing it at the closest student, "Get these on. You'll find your pair in your desk. Changing rooms are down on the left, meet me at the barren field to the right of this block. You have 10 minutes." Having seen how far the field Aizawa mentioned was from his unintentional tour of the school, Gyoubu rushed to the desk with his name on it, grabbed the kit and left with at the same time as some of the other, slightly overeager students.

As Aizawa explained the parameters of the quirk apprehension test, Gyoubu became almost bored. He reckoned that maybe five people there had strength enhancing quirks? The boy with engines was obviously a speed enhancer, but no one else's bodies really stood out as being obviously quirk-enhanced. There would obviously be people with non-visible quirks that would make their performance better, but it would likely be for only a few specific tests. What this all meant to him was that there was very little Gyoubu had at risk, since there weren't enough people who would squarely beat him in most areas, for him to worry about the expulsion threat.

Without significant risk, there was no fun. Probably not the healthiest way to go through life, but it was Gyoubu's way nonetheless.

And with every assessment that went by, his expectations were only proven true. In every task, there was usually only about a quarter of the class that would have quirks to assist them, and those who performed quirkless weren't too much of a threat. That wasn't to say the level of his classmates wasn't incredibly high, because Gyoubu never even took first place amongst the quirkless, usually being beaten by the split hair coloured boy, but he was nowhere near the worst.

The worst being his green-haired classmate. Who was also the Izuku Midoriya that he was so desperate to meet. It made sense though, Midoriya hadn't scored a single villain point, so likely had a non-physical quirk. That didn't make up for a lack of conditioning, but it made it a little excusable. Then, as he watched the ball of green trip over himself during the side-to-side steps, the excuses ran out a little more.

He turned his attention to the rest of his classmates, with a tall, multi-armed classmate noticing his gaze.

"It's not often I have to look up at someone my own age." His classmate remarked stoically, although through a mouth on the end of one of his limbs. Gyoubu saw his opportunity.

"Well excuse me, want me to-" The red-eyed devil winked overdramatically, smirking, "Bend over for you?"

His classmate was still for a moment, before a mad blush peeked over from the top of his mask, followed by a gravelly chuckle.

"You didn't have to say it like that," He had to stop for a second to completely stop his laughter, "Well regardless, I'm Mezo Shouji. It's nice to meet you." Gyoubu felt a true grin grow at Shouji's laughter.

"I'm Gyoubu Oniwa, it's nice to meet you too, Shouji." His classmate merely nodded, and they settled into a comfortable silence. Comfortable for anyone except Gyoubu, that is. Should he say more? Make another joke? Should he try and get Shouji's contact information? No, he wouldn't remember it by the time he got back to his phone. But damn it was the silence ok? Was Shouji just too weirded out to say anything else?

Fortunately, Aizawa's call broke Gyoubu out of the endless stream of worry, and handed the student a ball. The ball throw was probably the best test to distract Gyoubu from the woes of socialising, being just about the only test where his quirk would be useful.

The teen closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the rhythm he always did when he was out hunting back in Chiba. The awkward, overeager student slowly disappeared, and the White Demon of Chiba replaced it. He rolled his shoulder a few times, to make sure he'd have the range of motion he needed, before exploding into movement.

The second he shot the softball away from him, he ripped a coin from the lining of his hat (where he always kept his spares), and cannoned it through the air once more, but with a far lower trajectory.

As the softball began to sink towards the ground, having exhausted its momentum, it met resistance on its way down. The coin intercepting it. With just a brief moment of contact, the ball was flung into the air once more, as if it had a double jump.

His teacher held up his result: 356.7 meters. Nowhere near the explosion boy, but it would do. His slight pride was interrupted by Aizawa speaking.

"After the test you'll have to retrieve that coin. Littering is not the behaviour of a hero, especially when the litter is useful. By the way, if you hadn't used your quirk in that test, I would've expelled you." The taller boy merely nodded, still having some of the confidence that remained from his vigilante persona.

A few more people took the test, with varying results, before Gyoubu found his new favourite classmate. A quirk with so much raw strength that it would destroy its own user? That was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. If Izuku Midoriya didn't get expelled that day, Gyoubu was determined to beat him into the ground. Not before he got to see Midoriya beat himself into the ground with his own quirk though, that would be the most entertaining part.

Sadly, it seemed like it was not to be, with Midoriya's name appearing squarely at the bottom of the list. How the otherwise completely normal, invisible girl had managed to beat him, he would never know, but it had happened nonetheless.

Oh, Aizawa lied.

Gyoubu's fingers definitely didn't itch towards his coins, eager to start his brawl with the green-headed classmate. That would be rude of him.

The rest of the day was comparably mundane, with Aizawa settling them into UA properly. Syllabuses were given out, important dates for exams and such, and the class timetable all joined the mix. There were even after-school clubs he could join. He almost put himself down for the mixed martial arts club, but knew he'd get kicked out of the club, and probably the school too, if he accidentally went too hard. Begrudgingly, he instead joined the gardening club. He had countless cacti at home, but could never take care of anything more complex, but some experience at the club could help.

Gyoubu wasn't a stupid person. He hated his violence just as much as anyone else would've, and over the years had tried countless ways of calming the urges down. Therapy was off the table; he swore there were some kinda laws that made therapists tell the police about illegal stuff, and he knew he'd eventually slip and tell his therapist about his vigilantism. So with that crossed out, he moved onto everything else.

Meditation, crocheting, knitting, running at night (that one ended up in more violence when he found a mugging), painting, meditation again, writing, he'd even played golf when he ran out of ideas. In the end, he found that taking care of plants was just about the only thing that remotely calmed his urges down. It helped that if he ever tried to hit his cactus they'd hit him back, with their spikes.

Though the school day had been a little boring, it was already evident to Gyoubu that UA had everything he would need to thrive. And that was all he really needed to be happy. It didn't hurt things either, when Shouji asked him for his phone number, so they could help each other with school, or anything really.

The train ride home though, that's when things became just a little more fun at UA.

Mentally exhausted, Gyoubu stepped aboard the train home without thinking too deeply, luckily finding an empty seat. Just as he was about to doze off, a small nudge and chuckle came out from next to him.

"Young Oniwa, nice to see you again. Tough day at school?" The teenager nearly broke Mr Toshinori's nose in surprise, which prompted a sheepish smile from the older man. "Sorry for surprising you, but heroes should be aware of their surroundings. Think of it as training."

Gyoubu nervously laughed at what might have been a joke? Was it? Or was Mr Toshinori serious?

"Nice to see you too, Mr Toshinori. How do we keep bumping into each other? Do you work near UA? I swear All Might's office was further away…"

"I got on the same stop as you, young man; my work has been moved to around the UA building. You might even see me around school sometimes, if you're keen eyed enough. Speaking of which, you got in! Even though I didn't judge your performance, I still saw your zeal against those robots. Your coins caused quite a stir, none of the judges could figure out how a rotation quirk extended to shredding metal with only coins. I'm curious myself, how does it work?"

After fighting down the embarrassed blush at the praise, the rest of the train journey was filled with Gyoubu explaining the ins and outs of his quirk. Mr Toshinori was the first person he ever actually told about Second Rotation, which was also how he found himself hastily searching for a fake story about how he discovered its effects. Mr Toshinori was clearly someone who worked with heroes though, from all the questions and suggestions he offered, and how useful they all were.

The journey was also how he found out that Mr Toshinori was a bit of a mother hen. When Gyoubu mentioned the damage his coins did to his skin, the older man frantically checked over his hands, wincing and cringing at the countless scars and blackened burn spots, and the complete lack of fingernails on both thumbs. Only with the agreement that Gyoubu rely as little as possible on his quirk did the skeletal man stop fretting.

After all was said and done, Gyoubu was left with the strangest, warmest feeling inside of him.

He wondered if Mr Toshinori would always take that train at the same time as him.

The rest of the week at school passed largely without incident. 1-A slowly started to get rid of their awkwardness, already forming into small groups. Shouji and him had formed a very, very quiet bond, but it became surprisingly pleasant for Gyoubu over the week. It turned out that Shouji wasn't awkward around him or anything, he was just a man of few words. For the nervous wreck Gyoubu denied he was, it was a perfect dynamic.

To their partnership they'd even absorbed another of the class's quieter students, Koji Kouda, an addition that led to Gyoubu frantically trying to learn sign language. With a simple wave, they'd congregate at lunch to eat in mostly silence, only interrupted with brief smattering of conversation, either about school work, or in Gyoubu and Kouda's case, their shared love for plants.

To say it was without bumps would've been an absolute lie though, as evident in one of their joint lunches.

Gyoubu looked up for a moment, when Kouda, sat next to him, nudged him gently, and passed his phone to the white-haired boy. While Gyoubu learned sign, Kouda would largely communicate through writing on his phone, something that made the taller boy instantly become fond of him.

On it, was written: 'My animals act a little different around you. They seem to be a little more respectful? In a sort of scared way though. They're usually sensitive to these kinds of things, so it makes me curious that they seem to defer to you. You're kind though, perhaps your smell is different? Do you live near anywhere that handles meat? That usually sets them off a little.'

Shit. Gyoubu almost instantly knew what the animals were picking up on, since he went on a small vigilantism spree that morning, and he wasn't entirely sure he'd gotten rid of all the blood on him. Desperately seeking time to make up an excuse, he nervously chuckled.

"Man, kids find me scary, now animals do too? You sure they only act like that around me, or is it the same for a lot of… rougher looking guys?" Kouda nodded, while pointing at Gyoubu, then shook his head when pointing at Shouji. "Damn, yeah I have no idea why that is, I don't live near a butcher or anything. Maybe some spirit of war is haunting me? That'd be cool." Shouji laughed, but the animal loving boy shook his head in a way that screamed how not cool that would be.

Gyoubu never forgot to shower properly again, and tried to sit a little further from Kouda when he could.

Fridays, as Aizawa had mentioned, was when practical hero training would happen, not just the strength and conditioning lessons they had on most days. It was also the day that he'd get his hero costume, an affair he largely left to the support department, with only the general aesthetic choices he'd like. More importantly though, he'd also be getting his support items. After the entrance exam, where he hadn't had the chance to collect his coins, he'd basically been running on empty. The support department though, had easily gave in to his request of hundreds of cheap, shoddily made discs of metal, but he'd still have to pay a small amount if he needed top-ups.

The day came, and Gyoubu was practically vibrating with excitement while he waited for All Might to arrive.

And arrive he did, his monstrous steps damn near shaking the school as he got closer to the classroom.

"I am…" the behemoth of a man stuck his head through the door, "Arriving through the door like a normal person!"

Seeing the man in person, certain… similarities sprung to mind. Similarities he couldn't believe he'd never seen before.

Similarities to Mr Toshinori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gyoubu's slowly bedding himself into UA, and making a few friends. His hero costume will come next chapter, as will more suspicions about All Might. Also, second rotation comes next chapter, hopefully the reveal will be worth it.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, have a great day!


	6. The true power of rotation

Ignoring All Might's - or was it Mr Toshinori's? – explanation of the lesson to come, Gyoubu's mind fired on all cylinders.

There were just too many similarities for it to be a coincidence. Blonde hair, of the exact same shade, that was short at the back, bar two long sections at the front. Piercing blue eyes, hidden under deep shadows. Even the heights matched up, once you factored in Mr Toshinori's perpetual slouch. And it wasn't completely unheard of, for there to be transformative type quirks that also gave the user enhanced strength, which would also explain how the Symbol of Peace had never been seen outside of hero work.

But no, he told himself, he wouldn't bring it up in the middle of a lesson. Even if Mr Toshinori and All Might were the same person, did it really matter that much? It didn't change anything about the number 1 hero, it only meant that Gyoubu was far closer to him than he could've dreamed of. If he saw Mr Toshinori on the train home that day though, he decided he'd bring it up, more out of curiosity than anything else. He turned his attention back to the lesson, right as his teacher pressed a button on his desk, sending racks of briefcases out of the wall.

"You all sent in your designs to the support department, and your dreams have become a reality! Take your costumes, take your support devices, and meet me in Training Ground Beta when you've finished." As soon as the giant gave the all clear, there was a flurry of activity as his classmates excitedly retrieved their costumes, with Gyoubu joining them too.

After retrieving his costume though, he couldn't resist just a little investigation, so as he walked by All Might, he mumbled:

"I wonder how Mr Toshinori is doing." A single glance back up at his teacher told him everything he needed to know, what with the embodiment of "oh shit" written on his face. Gyoubu merely grinned, and carried on walking out the classroom.

He realised he'd taken a risk with letting the support department decide his costume, and it uh… he had mixed feelings about it. The base layer was a dark blue, and thick, almost leathery shirt, with what looked like coins studded into it in rows, with gaps of ten centimetres or so. Over the top was an open, high collared, black jacket that trailed down to his thighs. On his bottom half was even more black, with tight trousers, laden with pockets, and thick boots that went up to his calves.

'Why the hell is this so edgy?'

From what he'd seen, barring Tokoyami, all his classmates had bright, flashy costumes, with interesting designs. He told the support department he wanted a practical, function over form costume, but surely he could get a little more colour?

He couldn't be too disappointed in the costume makers though, because the practical portions of his costume had been done masterfully. Every portion of his costume had countless small hiding places for coins, as he'd requested, so he'd always be able to use his quirk. The main coin pouches on his hips, too, were amazingly done, being able to hold far more coins at once than his old, homemade pouches. They were also far more secure, having a rubber lip holding the coins in place, but still being easy to take coins from.

But damnit, sometimes a man didn't want to look like Aizawa.

Definitely still not a little upset about his costume, he listened to All Might explain the training exercise, finding himself get progressively more excited. It was essentially the first time in UA he'd be able to win something, in black and white terms. Working with a classmate though? Gyoubu had never been particularly good at that, but could probably find a use for whoever it was. His head poked up during the reading of the team names, after hearing his name.

"Team E will be Mina Ashido and Gyoubu Oniwa"

'Mina Ashido?'

Saving him the effort of looking for his teammate, a very… vibrant girl waved over to him from across the room, and he walked over to begin planning.

"Heya! You're Gyoubu right?" She started the conversation off.

"Yeah, so you must be Ashido. Nice to meet you." For some reason, the pink-haired girl started giggling at him, to which Gyoubu cocked an eyebrow at.

"Man you're formal, just call me Mina! This whole thing's exciting though, isn't it? Anyway, if we're working together we gotta know what we can do! My quirk's Acid, it's as simple as making acid. I can control its thickness and acidity though, so I can also use it just like water if I have to. What about you?"

Shaky in the face of Mina's enthusiasm, he slowly went through his quirk's abilities, all while watching Midoriya show just how entertaining he was against that explosion boy, and found that he and his teammate went together extremely well. They were both mid-to-close range fighters, with quirks that damn near specialised in incapacitating people, a huge boon in an exercise like the one they were doing. As Mina excitedly exclaimed, they were a match made in heaven. All they could do is hope they weren't put against a team that excelled up close, since both him and Mina needed time and aim to use their quirks.

"Team E: Mina Ashido and Gyoubu Oniwa will be the heroes, and team F: Rikido Sato and Eijiro Kirishima will be the villains."

Well shit.

From Sato's performance in the quirk apprehension test, he undoubtedly had enhanced strength, and Mina had told him about Kirishima's hardening quirk, so he knew full well just how much of a disadvantage he was at.

Oh god he loved UA.

"You ok in there? You've been zoning out a lot since All Might gave us our matchups, is it nerves?" Mina's voice broke him out of his passionate silence, as they stood outside the building, waiting for All Might's signal to enter.

"O-oh don't worry, I was just thinking of our strategy," if strategy included tearing the villain team's jaws from their face, then yes, he was thinking about strategy.

"Nice to hear I haven't lost ya! I've been thinking about it too, what've you got so far?" Knowing Mina probably wouldn't be too happy with 'murder them, win, try not to get expelled', Gyoubu forced himself to think rationally for a second, using years of experience as a vigilante.

"They're both close quarter specialists, right? That means they'll try and force a hand-to-hand fight, so they'll probably have put the warhead in somewhere that can only be reached from one direction, to force us to come at them head on. They should also have assumed we can't just bust through floors, so they're likely on a pretty high up floor, to waste our time. I also don't think they'll come looking for us, since we would have the jump on them if we saw them first, and could attack before they could get close enough. On how to beat them though? I don't really know; you have an idea?" Mina nodded along as he explained his thought process, seemingly agreeing.

"Yeah! I was thinking along the same lines, but if they're in a closed off area, I think I have an idea. If they rely on fighting up close, don't they need stable footing? It'll be a lot harder for them to attack us if I coat the ground with some acid first, and we can watch 'em slide around like they're on ice! And with your uhhhh, Rotation Number Two? We should be able to keep 'em still for long enough to do something."

That was… actually a really good idea to Gyoubu, now they just needed to put it into action. They didn't have any more time to plan anyway, with All Might calling the start of the trial. He asked one more question though:

"Stick together?"

"Stick together." She echoed, offering a fist bump as they walked into the building, which he took with a grin.

What followed was a thorough check of the entire building, gradually clearing floor by floor with as much speed as possible as they raced against the clock. Finally reaching the fifth, highest floor, they came upon Sato, not even attempting to hide from them, already in a fighting stance, and Kirishima stood further down the narrow hallway, backing him up.

He and Mina sprang into action without a word, in sync with Sato rapidly downing a packet of sugar, muscles suddenly bulging. Attacking in unison, Mina flung multiple handfuls of acid at their muscular classmate, while Gyoubu fired a coin to keep him back.

The yellow-clothed teenager smartly jumped back to avoid the volley, playing directly into Gyoubu's hands as he allowed the acid to hit the floor, spreading further into the hall, limiting his team's movement further.

With the momentary pause Sato's dodge gave them, Mina spread more acid, rapidly increasing their 'turf', while Gyoubu forced the villain team further back with more coins. Reluctantly, he kept the coins below even First Rotation, to avoid any serious injuries if his classmates got hit.

"Enough of this!" Sato suddenly boomed, before charging like a bull, and finding a path through the onslaught of coins, reaching the acid puddle in a frighteningly short amount of time.

'Is he just gonna charge through the acid? Or does he have a support item?'

What neither Gyoubu, Mina, nor probably Sato himself expected was for the freight train to simply leap over what must have been at least 10 metres of acid in a single bound, seemingly uncaring of the coins that whizzed by his body.

'Or he could do that.'

Not a single ounce of energy from the leap was wasted, being carried straight back into his all-out charge, directed at Mina. You could forgive Gyoubu then, when faced with such beautiful aggression, for going the slightest bit overboard. Trying to protect his teammate, he tore a coin from his pouch, spinning it straight to the deadliest portion of First Rotation, and nearly slammed it into his classmate's back.

He caught himself at the last moment though, spinning it into Second Rotation as he struck.

It was always beautiful to see it work.

The teenager had an incredible amount of muscle, and it was beautiful to see it wrench in on itself.

The boy folded.

Gyoubu remembered a time when his own quirk drove him insane, back when he'd been fourteen. The problem was simple: he'd been able to spin his coins faster than he'd ever been close to, so why did they stop damaging objects? He knew they were going faster, not slower, since the noise was even higher pitched, but they made no impact when they touched the ground. All they did was rotate on the ground, humming away. Sure, his entire body would feel tense in the strangest way as he stood near the coin, but other than that, nothing would happen. Then, the coin would lose spin ridiculously fast, only boring the smallest hole into the ground as it went from its full speed, to completely still.

Just what the hell was going on?

Thinking he might just have overworked his quirk, not being able to generate the same spin, he took a rest from his training, hoping that when he came back, the issue would be gone.

It hadn't, in fact it only got worse. Spinning the coin even faster exacerbated the problem, so it made sense that spinning it slower would make things go back to normal, right? He'd never had to do that before, and that was the problem. He'd always used his quirk at either a hundred percent, or not at all, so trying to control it for the first time, as expected, failed spectacularly.

Still, he couldn't accept just losing his most powerful attack just like that, so the determined boy stuck at it day after day, only getting more frustrated as he did so.

"God fucking damnit!" He roared, slamming his knuckles into a nearby tree, as if it was to blame for his lack of control.

There was Gyoubu's usual level of bloodthirsty, but then there was that day. No matter how hard he denied it to himself, he was an incredibly sore loser, and losing to himself, day after day, sent him over an edge that even he learned to fear. Too furious to even leave the forest he practiced in, and let out his frustration on some poor criminal, he instead searched for anything that could bleed, anything that would give him satisfaction.

It was just his luck a woodpecker was living in the tree he'd punched, and had perched itself on a branch above him, watching him curiously. Too fast for even a wild animal's reflexes, Gyoubu snatched it clean off the branch, and regarded it curiously, even as it flapped its wings fervently, trying to escape his grasp.

"Hello, little bird. Do you think you could explain something for me?" His tone was nothing short of ice cold. The poor creature merely flapped and tweeted harder.

"Why. Are. My. Coins. Dead?" Through gritted teeth he spoke. Of course not hearing an answer, he growled at the white-speckled bird once more.

"No answer? Well. I haven't tested them against anything live yet, have I? Guess I can't be too sure until I-" he slowly picked a coin from his pocket. "Try- " it slowly, agonisingly began to spin. "It- " The coin reached its final velocity. "Out?" He plunged the weapon at the bird, squarely between its struggling wings.

But there was no gore.

No explosion of bone and blood.

What he saw was even more beautiful.

The bird became suddenly still, wings outstretched in stone stiffness. All that belied any sort of life was the small twitches of its muscles, as if straining to escape a prison.

Gradually, the wings began to move in a wholly unnatural way, as if the bones themselves were wrenched by an invisible man's hands. They twisted and contorted into positions that would never occur in nature, bending in opposite angles and stretching further than could ever be healthy.

It was true art to Gyoubu. The way the bird so obviously resisted the movements, but was forced into them by a simple coin, brought sheer ecstasy to the teenager.

Good things were never permanent though, and neither was the amazingly grotesque play the bird had put on for him. The coin slid off its body harmlessly, not a single drop of blood having spilled, and its wings regained their desperate flapping, though far less energetically.

Gyoubu let the thing go, more than satisfied with it.

It was art. It was nothing less than art. He was sure he would never get frustrated at training his quirk control for as long as he lived, not when the reward for it was so indescribably incredible.

And so, Second Rotation was born. When he surpassed the destructive phase of his coin's potential (later dubbed First Rotation), the extra velocity rewarded him with the power to manipulate muscle itself. Birds became his play toys, for nearly nothing matched the visceral joy of tearing control of their body from them. Sadly, it seemed Second Rotation didn't do any lasting damage to the animals, since they would always fly away with just as much fierceness as always.

He would begin missing First Rotation though, the sheer destruction of it being rather stress relieving, so resumed his control training, only being able to freely switch between the two speeds a few months before UA.

This control over his quirk saved Sato's life, not that he knew it, but didn't save him from the excruciating pain of Second Rotation. There was no real way to describe quite what Second Rotation felt like, but a full body muscle cramp was reasonably close.

Left arm wrapped around his torso as if it was trying to make a loop, with his right arm nearly dislocating itself as it attempted to touch the floor, and torso bent further back then he could ever do unforced, it was fair to say that Sato had no real choice in whether he wanted to topple onto the ground face first, his massive momentum working against him completely.

"Watch yourself, Mina!" Was all the white-haired boy shouted, trying to ease off his bloodlust as he tossed a roll of capture tape to his teammate, so they could finish Sato off. The requirements for capturing a villain was to wrap their torso three times with the capture tape, something he and Mina barely managed to do before the coin's impact faded, and their captive began struggling again.

In the time they'd taken though, they'd neglected to keep an eye on Kirishima, who hardened his feet, allowing him to slide over the acid untroubled. Mina noticed the redhead at the last moment, ramming her taller teammate out of the way of a hardened punch.

"You should watch yourself first, Gyoubu!" She shouted as they tumbled the short distance together, in retort to his earlier admonishment. He got his footing back first, grabbing Mina's hand to get her up quicker, before pushing her towards the now undefended hallway.

"Go find the bomb! I'll keep Kirishima occupied, go!" Though she looked reluctant to trust entirely in Gyoubu's close quarters skill, she didn't question the decision, gliding over her acid and sprinting down the hall.

Kirishima briefly tried chasing after Mina, realising how vulnerable he'd left the warhead, but a vicious right hook from his closer opponent forced him to focus on the fight at hand.

"Two minutes remain before the villain team's automatic win!" All Might's voice boomed from the intercom system, causing the red-eyed teen to pray for Mina's speed, and his own strength.

Hundreds of fights circled through Gyoubu's mind as he and Kirishima circled each other for a moment. Years of fighting in filthy back alleys, against men, women, young and old, with every single quirk imaginable. The wins, both lucky and earned, but more importantly, the losses orbited the front of his mind. Every single possible slip up or tactical error he could make became clear to him, and he knew exactly what not to do.

All that was left then, was doing what would lead to victory.

Just like always, he would fight.

And just like always, he would relish every moment.

His hardened opponent broke the silence first, charging ahead without telegraphing what he would do. At the last moment, his charge shifted into a slicing left cross, nearly grazing Gyoubu's cheek before he dodged, slipping to the redhead's side. Prepared to counter, he readied a coin, jamming it into his assailant's exposed chest.

'Let's see if this works against you!'

Predictably, the power of Second Rotation had no large effect on the boy's hardened muscles, only pausing his body for a second, but that second was all Gyoubu needed to slam home a devastating uppercut. The frozen boy's chin whipped upwards, even with the reinforcement his quirk provided. And what a reinforcement it was, the taller teen thought, as his knuckles stung and ached as if he'd punched concrete.

Kirishima only grinned at Gyoubu, gritting his teeth through the obvious pain as he cockily smirked.

"You'll have to try a lil harder than that if you wanna break through me, y'know?" The redhead taunted, making his opponent smile even harder back at him.

"I'd have it no other way." Gyoubu responded, clenching a fist with one hand, and clutching a vicious First Rotation coin in the other.

The teenagers lunged at each other once more, becoming blurs to the cameras as they launched themselves with every ounce of speed in their body. Millimetres from each other, they were interrupted by the voice of All Might once more, shocking them out of their assault.

"Mina Ashido has claimed the villain's warhead, meaning that the hero team win!"

Both boys sank to the floor in both exhaustion and disappointment, having enjoyed their fight almost excessively. Kirishima was the first to rise, offering a hand for Gyoubu to lift himself up on. The teen still on the floor took the offered hand, wincing as it agitated the wounds his coins still did to him.

"Man! That was so manly! That really felt like a hero's battle, y'know? I kinda knew it was a lost battle from the start though, Mina woulda reached the warhead anyway, no matter if I won or not. We gotta carry this one on some other time though, it was super manly." Gyoubu was beginning to see a pattern in Kirishima's speech, but found it endearing nonetheless.

"It was a lost battle for me too, I mean, the thing I used against Sato barely even made you pause! And I'm still not sure if I'd be able to take you on with just my fists; you're really resilient, even amongst hardening quirk users."

"You guys having a nice conversation about your fight is great and all, I really mean it, but could someone get this tape off of me? I think I'm losing circulation." Sato spoke up, from where he'd been left forgotten on the ground. The two teens sheepishly apologised, and quickly helped the other boy get off the wraps, eventually needing Mina to help melt it off, once she returned.

All said and done, the group returned to the monitoring room, making small talk and jokes about the fight, with Mina even doing an exaggerated re-enactment of Sato's capture. Once they arrived, All Might welcomed them back, and began with the critique.

"Now, who would you young students say was the MVP of today's match?" Without missing a beat, a girl with spiky black hair and an… interesting costume –he thought her name might be Yao something? - raised her hand to answer.

"I would say it was Ashido. Without her creating the puddle of acid, Oniwa never would've been able to isolate Sato for long enough to capture him. On top of this, her speed in finding the warhead allowed the hero team to take the win. It could not have been Sato, for his charge at Ashido was uncalculated, and ultimately led to him being shut down quickly and easily." Poor Sato looked suddenly embarrassed, finding his shoes and floor suddenly interesting. "And it could not be Kirishima either, for his lack of speed in traversing the acid puddle cost him his teammate." Kirishima, though smiling still, rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Oniwa was close to being the MVP, and his ability to so easily take Sato out is remarkable, but I believe Mina was ultimately more pivotal in the hero team's success, as Oniwa would likely have lost, if he didn't have Ashido's specific skillset to help him, whereas Ashido would likely have still found a way with a different teammate." The class was already used to the girl's professional analysis, having heard it after every single match, and merely nodded in agreement.

Gyoubu pretended that he didn't care for the title of MVP, giving a grin to his beaming teammate, bidding her good luck. There were still a decent amount of matches still left to go, and utterly exhausted from his battle, he found a quiet corner of the room to sit, and rapidly drifted off into sleep.

The class ending, getting changed, and homeroom being dismissed all passed in the blur of being half asleep, until bumping into a hulking form in the hall jostled him out of his state.

"Ah, young Oniwa, I was looking for you! Would you be so kind as to come with me for a moment?"

Oh. All Might.

He'd nearly forgotten about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Man, why did sudden writing inspiration have to hit so late at night for me? Anyway, here's the chapter, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Poor birds, Gyoubu seems to have some kind of personal vendetta against them.
> 
> Next chapter, I'll probably cover the conversation with All Might, a few more small events, before moving on to the lead up to USJ.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, have a great day!


	7. A conversation with Number One

The face of the Symbol of Peace beamed down at him, yet even to Gyoubu his grin was more strained than ever before.

"Of course sir, lead the way." Without another word, his teacher did so, briskly walking down the labyrinth of UA at a speed even the athletic teenager struggled to keep up with. Barely a minute later, they arrived at what must've been All Might's office, a tea set already laid out.

"Would you like a drink, young Oniwa?" All Might was never this polite, it was unnerving. Eager to get on with the conversation, Gyoubu refused with equal cordiality.

"Alright then. What do you know about me and Mr Toshinori?" The blonde man's eyes gleamed in a way only All Might's could, and in a second, it was no longer the bumbling yet good-hearted teacher in front of him, but the hero that surpassed every single villain he fought. The teen found himself grinning, even while he felt himself sweat at the mere aura of his teacher.

"I don't know anything for sure; all I have are similarities and suspicions. You two have similar hair styles and colours, heights, and personalities. But judging from your reactions now, and earlier, I'd take a guess that my suspicions weren't wrong. You have to be Mr Toshinori, I'm sure of it."

His teacher stared at him for a moment.

The world stood still for a brief second.

Before a grin broke out on his face. It wasn't the classic Symbol of Peace smile though, but a true, humorous smirk.

"So you're telling me if I played it cool you would've had no idea?" All Might chuckled for a moment, reclining back in his chair and sighing. While he exhaled though, steam began to escape from his body, seemingly shrinking where he sat. "You already know this much; you'll just get stubborn if I leave you hanging, so here we go."

"Well you played me like a fool, young Oniwa. Damn, I knew I shouldn't have talked to you that much, kids these days are too suspicious for their own mental health. No point hiding it then, what you see now is my true form. What a sight, isn't it?" The number one hero was gone, instead sat a mirthfully defeated skeletal man in a comically oversized suit: Mr Toshinori.

"I won't tell you how this happened to me, you know too much for your own good. I only ask you keep this to yourself, no one needs to know the Symbol of Peace is a hollow, half-dead husk of a man." Gyoubu cautiously nodded, more than a little confused at his phrasing. All Might continued, "You're a rather lucky student, you know that? Only a handful of people on Earth are aware of this form, now including you. Regardless, we both have trains to catch, I presume I'll see you again there. Off you trot then, not a word, remember?"

"Thank you, sir, I uh- well this has probably been the most anticlimactic reveal of my life, seeing as nothing about you really changes, but I suppose that's ok, you could probably kill me if I knew too much." Luckily, his teacher thought he was joking, chuckling a bit. "Ah, and I won't be on the train at the same time, I have a club today, sorry." Gyoubu was sure he'd imagined the flash of disappointment that crossed All Mi- Mr Toshinori's face.

"That's quite alright young man, keep yourself safe out there."

"You too, sir."

And just like that, Gyoubu left his office.

That is, Gyoubu left his office bored as bored could be. There was so much All Might had left out! Obviously he didn't have another form just because, and calling himself a 'hollow, half-dead husk of a man' was just asking for the teen to get curious. Ugh, he knew All Might had kept it a secret for whatever reasons he had, but could it hurt to just give the whole damn story? What about his blood coughing? That had to be linked to it! The way he walked in his 'true form' belied a major injury, as well, so could that be linked? Damn it! So many questions and All Might just sent him off.

'If I beat him would he tell me?'

Gyoubu didn't laugh after thinking that. Not many people could've said the same, none of them sane.

The gardening club, like almost everything in UA, was of ridiculous quality. The very first meeting, they'd given every new member their own set of tools, gloves, and apron, and a potted orchid to take care of as 'homework'. The supervising teacher, Mr Ishiyama (known as Cementoss when he was acting as a hero) ran the newbies through all the basics, essentially just telling them to listen to him and their seniors, and don't take anything too seriously, before introducing them to the UA plants.

And of course, the introducing process involved sharing the names of each plant. No, not the scientific species names, the names each student had given to them. Mr Ishiyama had even had them shake leaves with every Osamu and Cho, and give their names to every little herb and shrub. Though awkwardly, Gyoubu happily obliged, loving the rich diversity of every plant.

And how diverse the greenhouse was, though perhaps greenhouse was understating it a little, seeing as the UA gardens were the size of 3 regular houses put next to each other, and tall enough to have two floors. The storeys were littered with every plant you could imagine, with perfectly organised sections splitting them into their varieties.

There was the flower section, a myriad of colours and fragrances, with tulips and orchids and pansies from the Netherlands, Ecuador, Brazil, even India. Then there was The Orchard, named for its plentiful supply of fruit trees, which his concrete teacher had told him was responsible for the majority of the school's fruit, and any excess was sold off, to pay for the running of the greenhouses.

All in all, Gyoubu felt like he'd walked straight into Diagon Alley, and from the looks on the other new members' faces, he'd hazard a guess they felt the same. Of the new members though, none were familiar to him, as only a single other person from the hero course was there, and they were a vine-haired girl from 1-B. The rest were mostly from general education, with a few students dotted from the support and management courses.

If Kouda didn't have a part time job at a nearby animal shelter, and Shouji hadn't joined the boxing club, they would've both been with him to try out the club. It was not to be, however, so the white-haired teen was forced to –god forbid– make friends by himself, but found no luck, as his yearmates were far more interested in talking to the plants than other people. It also helped (or rather, didn't help), that they were mostly from the same classes, probably having been introduced to each other already.

He still managed to keep his spirits high to the end of the session, but it was a completely exhausted Gyoubu that boarded the train that day, still hoping he'd see Mr Toshinori. Unfortunately, there was no jolly skeleton to prod him and talk about heroics, leaving only the crying children and deflated salarymen to keep him company. Trying to fight off sleep, as he knew it'd make him miss his stop, he thought back to the training exercise, critiquing himself. And what a critique it was.

In short, he didn't dominate. That was all he really needed to be angry at himself. It may have sounded harsh. but when you explained the reasoning, it made sense. How much, exactly, was the experience difference to his classmates? Even if they had martial arts training, or were delinquents that barely made it into UA, could any of them say that they fought for their lives more times than they could count? Against people with every quirk imaginable? He severely doubted it. So with all this experience, with all those fights under his belt, what the fuck was he doing, having to rely on his teammate to win? With the yellow guy's takedown, sure, that was about appropriate for him, but Kirishima shouldn't have been a blip on the radar. The redhead's invincibility to his coins wasn't an excuse either, since people with hardening quirks were a dime a dozen in Chiba, albeit weaker versions, and he'd destroyed most of them with his bare hands.

Even if he couldn't break through his defence with brute force (which he should be able to, he argued) had he ever heard of the simply magical thing known as… strategy? Could he not have broken the floor beneath Kirishima, delaying him by trapping him in a lower floor, before capturing the warhead himself? Could he not have tried grappling with him? Or how about just picking the boy up and tossing him out of a window? Yes, it sounded completely insane, but Gyoubu was confident he'd be able to lift Kirishima's perhaps 70-kilogram body with relative ease, and tossing him clean out of a window wouldn't be too much of a stretch past that point.

But no, he just punched a concrete wall and hoped it'd politely get out of the way. Very intelligent. If he wasn't beaten and bruised, but more importantly, had an orchid in need of potting and watering, he'd probably find some poor petty thief to cripple.

It was for the best anyway, after all, he was added to the list of publically recognised and pursued vigilantes a month or two ago, and though the police hadn't gone out of their way to find him, it wouldn't take long for them to do it if he started going too overboard.

He silently groaned as his thoughts moved onto that whole can of worms. Usually his victims were either too scared, busy with getting prosecuted, or brain damaged to give an accurate description of him to the police, but it seemed enough of them managed to eke out a report to get him recognised. The police were definitely already aware of the White Demon of Chiba (oh he loathed that name, too dramatic), but they finally had a physical description to go off of, which had the joyous impact of having police officers and heroes ready to chase him. He'd never had to fend off heroes before, and while he was keen to test himself against them, he didn't think prison fights would be all that fun in comparison.

Eventually he compromised with himself; forgoing the white mask that characterised the White Demon, instead donning a ridiculous amount of rubber and cloth to eliminate any hair or skin left at the crime scenes, even running kilometres away from home just to go on a bludgeoning spree. Most horrifically though, was having to limit himself to only a single spree a week. For a man like Gyoubu, that was the equivalent of eating a slice of bread every month or so, with nothing in between. The only way he was able to stick to it was because of UA, the rigorous daily training able to satiate him temporarily, and the soreness he carried in every muscle helped stop him from leaving the house in the dead of night.

A pounding headache began to form as he thought about his predicament, so he simply reclined in his seat, tugging his cap over his eyes as he gave up on resisting sleep, and resigned himself to missing his stop.

As the noise of the train tracks echoed, and the sun coloured the sky purple as it set, the young boy rested, his usual visage of war and violence peaceful for a moment.

The morning came so much faster than he would've liked, and with it came all the soreness from the previous day's training, and damn Kirishima was tough, judging from how sore his entire right arm was, simply from hitting him. The weekend gave him an opportunity to rest though, something he, for once, wouldn't pass up on. Of course, resting for Gyoubu entailed only a light workout session, merely two hours in the gym, instead of his usual weekend, where he damn near slept in the weight room with the time he was in there.

Entirely too quickly, and mundanely, for his liking, the weekend went by, the only mildly exciting part being when he met up with Shouji, but even that slipped into monotony when they just ended up working out in silence together. Feeling as if he'd only just left the school on Friday, he stepped through the gates once more on Monday, prepared for whatever UA had to throw at him. Although, being a Monday, UA mostly threw Japanese History and trigonometry at him.

Monday slipped by, with the only exciting thing being his assignment to the herb section of the greenhouse, leaving him smelling like a chef's pantry by the end of the day. Tuesday went by in almost equal fashion, except for the strength and conditioning class that took up the afternoon, where Aizawa forced the class to climb a constantly shifting rock wall until their skin blistered, to train their skin and back muscles. Wednesday passed similarly, with Gyoubu leaving school smelling of flowers instead, then Thursday was the first day to bring any sort of entertainment. It did it early on too, during morning homeroom.

"Class, we need to get something done this morning." Everyone perked up at Aizawa's announcement, hoping that it'd be related to the hero training the following day.

"You need to decide a class representative amongst you." The class visibly deflated at that. "I don't care how you do it. You have ten minutes, I'm napping."

Gyoubu mostly tuned out the following burst in activity, taking the opportunity to look over his classmates in depth, surprisingly, for the first time. He didn't know much about people in general, let alone his classmates, but the election provided him a fun way to gauge their personalities.

His classmates may be slightly overeager, but they weren't stupid enough to think that they'd be able to decide on a rep, simply by standing on their soapboxes and praying for a unanimous agreement. Someone would suggest a vote, and that's where things would get a little interesting. He could only really think of two people who'd be in the running though, since they were the only people to make a real impression on the class, in the way a representative would.

It would be…

The uh…

Oh god he didn't know their names at all. Whatever, it'd probably come down to spiky-black-hair-posh-girl and tall-engine-boy-with-the-glasses. Glasses boy because he'd shown very clearly his love for rules, so he'd attract the votes of classmates who trusted he'd actually do the work bestowed on him. The posh girl would be in the running because of her antics in the hero training exercise the previous week. Simply put, people probably thought she was smart and could talk well. Not to mention the fact that, even to Gyoubu, she was an attractive girl, and that would be enough to earn a vote from people too hormonal and preoccupied to actually care about the result of the election.

True to his prediction, a vote was called, with the candidates who wanted the position giving a small campaign speech. Most of the class participated, even Kouda wrote down his attempt on the blackboard. A surprising amount of people stuck out during the process, one of them sticking out the most to him.

Mino? Mia? Maru? Mina! That was it, Mina! He hadn't really considered her beforehand, but her infectious personality was brought fully out to bask in the attention when she spoke. Gyoubu couldn't help but smile along as she exuberantly told the class how she'd do her absolute best for them all, 'cause they're the kickass 1-A goddamnit!'. The girl managed to make such an impact with barely a paragraph of unrehearsed speech, so he was sure she'd eventually grow on the whole class. Like a pink, constantly happy, fungus.

Eventually the votes were taken in, with his own going to Mina, and they were counted up in short order. Unsurprisingly, posh girl got some of the most votes, only second to-

The fuck was Izuku Midoriya doing in first place? What had the broccoli even done? In confusion, he looked over to Shouji beside him.

"What did Midoriya do to be this popular? Did I miss something?" His friend looked up at him for a moment, humming as he seemed to go back in his thoughts.

"I believe you were there for his battle trial, right? He put on an amazing show, sacrificing himself as he did, it was quite heroic. He also seems to have a friend group already, they likely voted for him. I suppose it also helps that he won against Bakugou, he seems to be rather unpopular."

Huh? His battle trial was a show of heroics? Gyoubu saw it more as an advert for a meal he was dying to devour, but to each their own. He merely shrugged at Shouji, saying that he hadn't expected it.

Almost as soon as the rep, and vice rep had been picked out, Aizawa's alarm went off, and the human puffer jacket rose quickly.

"You managed to choose, and by a vote even. Good, it was the rational choice. Settle down and get ready for your classes then, I'll fill the reps in on their duties in the afternoon," Aizawa spoke, in his usual succinct form. Some of his classmates smiled at the praise, with a few of the more outgoing ones congratulating the new representatives as they made their way back to their seats. He couldn't help but notice the panicked expression on Midoriya's face though, but he didn't care enough to be truly curious.

"Ah! So the thumb should be at a right angle then?" Gyoubu said, correcting his hand position, which his silent classmate nodded at approvingly. Their little trio had finished their lunches quickly, so the animal lover passed the time by helping Gyoubu and Shouji learn sign. Getting Kouda to help them was a battle in of itself, the boy not wanting to burden his friends with the task of learning a whole language. The two boys were stubborn though, both being aware of how much easier it was for Kouda to sign, instead of writing things down.

"Shouji, do you think you'd be able to sign like, three conversations at once with all your arms?" The red-eyed boy wondered out loud. His classmate thought for a moment, Gyoubu's comment making him curious himself.

"Maybe, I'd ha-"

BRING BRING BRING BRING BRING

An ear-splittingly loud alarm interrupted him, followed by an automated voice.

"There has been a Level 3 security breach. All students please evacuate outdoors promptly."

'Security breach? As in, someone infiltrated UA? What a nutcase! I love them.'

He squashed down the hope of having someone to fight against, instead following his friends as they scrambled to get to the closest hallway. Said hallway was more of a mosh pit by the time they got to it though, full to the point of being near a stampede.

The trio looked at each other, then looked at the hallway, and nodded at the same time as they silently decided that they'd take the odds of having to fight a villain over getting crushed by their classmates. If someone started really getting injured, Gyoubu would probably have to do something, maybe break a window or two to get their attention. Normal stuff.

It was never needed however, when glasses boy made quite a show by flying through the air, and landing on the top of a doorway in the fire exit man position. Fighting the urge to snort, he heard his classmate shout how there was nothing to worry about, that the intruders were (disappointingly to Gyoubu), just very overzealous journalists somehow getting onto the school grounds. He did manage to get a picture of his classmate in the amusing position, saving it for memories.

That afternoon, before Aizawa could pull Midoriya and posh girl (Yaoyorozu, her name was) aside, the greeny passed his role onto glasses boy (Iida, he'd called him). Of course he cited the earlier incident as his reason, but it was plain as day that the boy just didn't want the position in the first place, probably being too nervous to do it properly. Fortunately, there were no protests against the decision, his other classmates being influenced by glasses b- Iida. Being influenced by Iida. He really needed to work on his memory.

Aizawa was only mildly annoyed by it, but didn't say much against it, probably not having the energy for it.

Gyoubu boarded the train home, still scanning the train for Mr Toshinori. Tuesday was the only other day he didn't have Gardening Club, but he hadn't seen the blonde then. Perhaps he'd started leaving at a different time, or going to a different home, since All Might undoubtedly had more than one residence? It wouldn't be completely out of the realm of possibility, talking to the student would be far more of a pain in the ass now that he knew about a tenth of his secret, so it could just be protecting them both. Or he could just be on a different carriage, it didn't have to be a dramatic reason.

Slightly ruffled by his failed search, he sat down on a random free seat, uncomfortable with the lack of leg room. There were special carriages for people with larger frames due to their quirks, but since Gyoubu just fell short of the two metre height required to use them, he was stuck in the normal carriage for the moment.

"Were you looking for someone? You were eyeing up the whole carriage." Someone questioned him from the seat to his side, in a voice he could never misplace. Of course he wasn't expecting them to be there, sending him jumping into the air in fright, a coin reflexively palmed.

"Mr Toshinori?" The man himself was sat right next to him, somehow having avoided being spotted by Gyoubu.

"In the flesh, young Oniwa. Try not to use your quirk on the train, that's a crime you know?" His teacher admonished.

"Ah sorry, reflexes," he sheepishly responded, immediately cancelling out the small amount of spin that his coin already had. "I was just surprised to see you here, I thought you'd avoid contact after uh, after what we discussed." He whispered the last part, mindful of the other people on the train.

"I wouldn't do that, Oniwa. It makes it a good bit easier to talk to you, in fact, since I don't need to be overly conscious of protecting my identity. Now!" His senior clapped his hands, as if dispelling the nervous nature of the past conversation. "Tell me about UA, how's the week been so far?"

"It's been good it's been good; I'm settling in well. Our homeroom and physical training teacher, Aizawa is very… rigorous, though. In a good way, I mean. He doesn't push us past exhaustion or anything." The last part was tacked on quickly, not wanting to seem like he was badmouthing his teacher. Something had been on Gyoubu's mind though, so before Mr Toshinori could respond, he spoke once more.

"I wanted to ask you something though, and I really don't mean any offence by it but…" Mr Toshinori motioned with his hand to carry on. "Why is it that you've been talking to me? I'm sure being a teacher, as well as your other duties is tiring enough, so why put more energy into getting to know a student you barely teach?"

"Ah, of course you'd be curious about that, you figured out my secret, so of course you have a suspicious mind. UA is a great school; god knows it is. Some of the greatest heroes of all time would've been sidekicks for D-list heroes if it wasn't for the school. But regardless, even with all the training and coaching and facilities, the world it's sending you kids off into is disgusting to say the least. I'm not going to be the Symbol of Peace forever, and your generation will be one of the first to deal with the era without me. So you'd be right by thinking that I'm not just talking to you for the company. Think back to all our conversations for a moment. What links them?"

Gyoubu did exactly that, recalling all of his interactions with the man outside of school. And just like All Might said, there was one thing that linked everything together. When he told him about First and Second Rotation, the very first thing Mr Toshinori did was make him list all the possible uses of them, and give ideas for new ones. When he'd talked about his strategies for facing the entrance exam robots, his teacher instantly went to pick his mind about them. The blonde man must've seen the recognition in his eyes, as he spoke again.

"I've been trying my hardest to teach you. To pick your mind on your abilities, make it a habit for you to instantly think on your feet. You've got a hugely technical quirk, but from what I've seen and heard of you, your natural strategy tends to go the complete opposite way. I can see that just in your build, you're built quite like me, a slugger that wears out their opponent with pure force. Your quirk though? A possible one hit KO, that relies on your aim, and speed. You see the juxtaposition there, right? When you've mastered your quirk, as well as your physicality, you'll be feared by villains, but for now, we need to get your mind up to scratch."

Gyoubu was absolutely floored. He'd never thought too hard about his abilities before, merely trusting that practice and experience would take him to the heights he desired, but what Mr Toshinori had said was nothing but true, and he almost couldn't believe he'd ignored it.

"I would love to get on with whatever you think I need to work on, but I just have one more question: why did you choose me for all this?"

"Simple answer for that one: you have the uncanny ability to always find me and sit next to me without realising it. If I didn't know better, I'd say your quirk magnetically attracted you to me. I'd give this to any student if they were in your position, I just don't have the time to do this to everyone. Call it favouritism, but I'm merely assisting someone who just happens to be at the right place at the right time for me to have time for them. Now, I watched your battle trial a few times in preparation. Go through what you remember of it; I want to hear your reasoning before I say anything."

The pair barely got through the first half of the exercise when they had to part ways, but with just the half they did cover, Mr Toshinori challenged his brain more than he ever thought possible. Hero operations were far more complex than they looked, even for someone like All Might, so even the small details, like the order they checked each floor, were something they studied and prepared for, something his teacher helped him with.

All in all, Gyoubu left the train mentally exhausted, and with pages full of strategy notes from All Might. Such was the impact of it, that as the boy slept, he even dreamed of the battle trial, replacing his memories with the different ways he and Mina could've won. All the different orders of attack, all the different approach strategies, everything. It almost went against Gyoubu's desire for a pure, overwhelming, violent victory, but even a violent victory had to be a strategic one. He would one day be on the level where his own strength and confidence was all the plan he needed, and in all honestly he believed he should be there already, but in the meantime, he'd have to use his head to get what he wanted. What a novel concept.

He did wonder what Friday's training exercise would entail though, All Might had hinted that it'd be useful. At least, he hoped it would be memorable.

He should never have wished for that.

As the sun rose, and Gyoubu soon followed it, he woke with a rumbling excitement within him, as if countless insects were humming in anticipation inside of him. It was probably just the hero training exercise he told himself, those usually got him fired up. The buzzing feeling persisted the entire day, however, almost making him miss lunch as his nervous excitement upset his stomach. Whatever it was, he hoped it would settle when heroics training began, it was starting to get on his nerves.

It didn't. In fact, it only got more intense as he sat on the UA bus to the rescue training venue. He tried distracting himself, remembering the brief that their homeroom teacher had given them before they left. Most memorably, was Aizawa's warning about costume's limiting mobility, something he took to heart, mostly as an excuse to modify his costume. He decided to forgo the bulky black jacket, since it'd probably cause him to overheat, or get caught on debris. No it wasn't because he was unexpectedly fussy about his own aesthetics, not at all. What it left him with was the tank-top like, leather base layer, which showed enough of his arms to make him more than a little insecure.

In the background, he could hear his classmates at the front making idle conversation about quirks and the like, but he simply couldn't bring himself to join them with his strange excitement. Every time he opened his mouth to speak it curled into a snarl, the very same grin he wore when devouring a particularly resistant criminal back in Chiba. He even began sitting with his arms positioned to cover his face, so no one would be weirded out by his incessant smiling.

Shouji had noticed, because of course he had, but hadn't bothered Gyoubu much about it, trusting the excuse of an upset stomach that he gave during lunch. It didn't stop the occasional worried glance thrown his way, but he didn't mind all that much.

Perhaps he'd calm down when they got there? It could just be a stomach bug, made worse by car sickness.

The feeling increased tenfold when he stepped inside the USJ. With a struggle, he was able to put it aside to listen to Thirteen's speech. Ultimately, it proved a tad bit useless to Gyoubu. Quirks could kill. Big surprise. To him, that was the whole damn point of his quirk. And even if he wanted to, using his quirk to save people would be near impossible with his skillset. If someone was stuck under rubble and Gyoubu tried to remove it with First Rotation, he'd probably end up killing the civilian from being pelted with the destroyed stone. Second rotation wouldn't be too much of a use either, since even if he used it to make someone move from a dangerous position, he didn't have the exact control over which muscles were controlled to make them do much else other than curl into a ball, which, chances are, they would already be doing.

He'd already been tuning out the rest of what Thirteen was saying, choosing instead to analyse the rescue centre in front of him, looking over all the distinct zones, and pondering their uses.

That was how he was one of the first to notice the mist suddenly appear in the middle of the plaza, followed by a hand reaching out of it.

What he noticed most of all though, was the sudden presence in the air. One he recognised more intimately than the presence of his own mother.

Whoever the hand belonged to, carried the stench of death with them. Heavier and more potent than any of the murderers he'd met and destroyed.

He began to laugh, for no words could convey his ecstasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how a mostly filler chapter ended up being the longest chapter so far. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed it, next time some actual drama will happen.
> 
> Next time on DragonBall Z: Gyoubu gets slapped around by big meaty beast!
> 
> Thank you again for reading, please leave a review if you'd like. See you next chapter.
> 
> Go eat something, drink something, and do some exercise. Can't have you dying before the next chapter.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading!


	8. Let loose

This was great! Oh it was more than great. Surely, with villains invading the USJ right as his class arrived, they must be the targets? And surely, if they were the targets of the attack, they'd be sanctioned to use whatever force they needed? His eyes remained on the slowly revealing form of the villain from the portal, his eyelids opening wider and wider as they tried to enjoy the sight before them.

For you see, Gyoubu had never gone all out on anyone. Not the hundreds of criminals he'd crippled, not the birds who he used to practice, not Kirishima, no one. No one had actually faced the full storm of Gyoubu Oniwa, and for his debut to come so early? Simply blissful.

The first villain finally revealed his full form, a scrawny, scraggly looking young man covered with hands. Yet, Gyoubu knew this couldn't be the only attacker, since the stench of death that he carried was only a fraction of the haze that filled the air. There had to be multiple villains, maybe even a group? He wanted a group. What kind of quirks would they all have? Would they all be murderers? Would they be able to challenge him at full power?

As soon as the hand-man had left the portal, an additional two portals opened on either side of him, out of which at least fifty, if not more, assorted villains streamed out of. Gyoubu devoured watching over them all, taking in the variety. There were mutants, standing out from the rest with their animal features. That was not all, there were muscular tanks, slenderer knife-wielders, those carrying an entire armoury of weapons and armour, and those who came bare-handed.

But all of them were linked, pulled together by a single thing.

Bloodlust.

You could see it in their eyes, tell by the tensing and flexing of muscle, hear it in their excited chattering (and occasionally, growling). But most of all, the air reeked of it. It reeked of the pure urge to hurt and cripple, and whatever else their depraved minds urged for.

Gyoubu felt at home, for the very first time in his life. Standing in front of a group of killers, he truly felt that he'd found his place in the world.

In an instant the combined bloodlust of the group doubled- no, tripled, as another form came out of the central portal, slowly stepping forth with footfalls that shook the ground. The beast was a work of art. It's limbs, thicker than concrete pillars, and its eyes, more visceral and crazed than even the most drugged up alley-creature. It was everything Gyoubu wanted to be and more: the purest incarnation of violence.

Hand-man had been talking to his teachers while he was busy having his… moment, with him only snapping out of his daze when the mist-man beside the portals suddenly disappeared. An unknown voice suddenly spoke, from behind the class,

"Greetings, I am Kurogiri, part of the League of Villains. We are-" The misty bartender was, rather rudely, interrupted by the three fastest students to react to him.

Bakugou screamed a death threat, Kirishima stayed silent as he threw a hardened punch, and Gyoubu gutturally roared as he flicked a small volley of coins, every single one being in First Rotation.

Without batting a single eye at the assault, shadows flowed from the sleeves of Kurogiri, forming four barriers in the air. His two classmates were sucked away, disappearing out of his sight, while his coins were all intercepted.

And came right back at the group of teens, with all of their speed, and every single ounce of deadly rotation still remaining.

'Fuck.'

There was no way all of his classmates would be able to evade the coins, and he didn't want to live with the guilt of killing them all. Teeth gritted, and hands already within his pouches, he was forced into the only other option.

He had to shoot down every single one of them.

The screech of metal on metal filled the air as coins barely intercepted each other, some just glancing off of each other. His thumbs pumped coins out with such speed they were barely blurs to his classmates, as every single muscle he possessed was fully thrown into hunting down each and every one of the orbs.

It took less than a second for him to realise that it wouldn't be anywhere near enough. Nearly half of his shots missed, and every wayward coin was sent straight back at him. It was becoming a deadly game of tennis, with Kurogiri overwhelmingly pushing Gyoubu into a corner in just the few seconds they had been exchanging coins.

"A hero is never alone!" Shouted the recognisable voice of Thirteen, who placed themselves protectively between the class and the constant barrage, with the metallic caps on their fingertips swinging open to release their quirk. Shame began to creep up on the teenager as he watched his teacher's quirk effortlessly atomize the weapons he was so proud of.

His shame couldn't last any longer than a second however, as the ground beneath him suddenly disappeared, and mist overtook his form. The last thing he saw was Thirteen having their black hole reflected right back at them, along with every single coin they couldn't destroy.

Pure heat was the first thing Gyoubu felt as he arrived through the portal. The kind of heat that made the air within your lungs feel too solid to exhale, and pounded on you from every direction. The Conflagration Zone, he instantly recognised, having seen the hell from the entrance. He had never felt so grateful for getting rid of his jacket, it would've made the experience immeasurably worse. After a half-second of getting used to the change in environment, the sweltering teen set about scanning his surroundings.

The facility hadn't spared any expense, had they? The Conflagration Zone was a painstakingly accurate recreation of a city, complete with cars and shopfronts. A completely realistic city, apart from the fact that every square inch was ablaze. Only the streets themselves were spared from it, yet the heat rendered the asphalt beneath him almost too sticky to walk on. Why had the villain sent him there? What was the point in splitting up the class like that?

A step. Gyoubu's ears could instantly hear it, even over the crackling of the blaze around him. He was not alone. Whoever was with him couldn't be a classmate either, since the step was too quiet to have come from someone who wasn't trying to go unnoticed. Unfortunately for whoever was approaching him, he was used to people trying to get the drop on him, from regularly walking through unsavoury neighbourhoods to bait out clueless muggers. For the moment, he continued to walk as if he hadn't heard anything, waiting for the moment they'd strike, repeating All Might's words to himself mentally to pause his bloodthirst for the moment.

On the very first time they discussed his abilities, All Might had summed him up in a few words. He was a counter-type hero, similar to Aizawa. They would both work best if they waited until their opponent was fully committed to their attack before striking. Aizawa would benefit from this by erasing their quirk as they struck, both nullifying the blow, and preventing his opponent from using their quirk to defend themselves from the following counter-attack. For Gyoubu, his attacks could be a 1-hit KO if timed right, and from testing it on birds, he learned that Second Rotation was more effective the more the muscles were already tensed at the point of impact, thus making a counter the quickest way to end the fight.

That's the strategy he'd go for in a graded trial. Or perhaps against enemies he was too tired to have fun with. Or perhaps when he knew he was at too much of a disadvantage to go his usual route. But then? There was no Aizawa watching him like a hawk, ready to chew him out for brute forcing his way out of everything. Neither was he tired, and the fear of being at a disadvantage only spurred him on, for winning when the odds were against you was infinitely more rewarding.

THUD

Something fell behind him. Something heavy. First Rotation coins were in his hands before a single second passed, and by the time he whipped around to face the noise he was already in his wide, stable battle stance.

"Ah! Oniwa! Oh man it's good to see you, I don't think I'd be able to make it out of here by myself, these villains are seriously scary…" Ah, it was his classmate. He kept his coins spinning as he walked towards the boy, wary of a shapeshifting quirk.

For the life of him he couldn't remember a name, but the boy was distinctive enough for him to still remember his face. He was a plain-looking blonde, over a head shorter than Gyoubu, dressed in a traditional karate gi. Gyoubu only really remembered him because of the muscular tail he sported, nearly as long as the boy himself. Tail-boy was one of the few classmates he could completely and honestly say he liked without having ever talked to him. From what Gyoubu had seen during the previous week's battle trials, tail-boy was someone who relied completely on their own physical strength, and that was all he needed to make it into the red-eyed boy's graces. But just because he was a friendly face, didn't mean the taller boy could let his guard down.

"Tell me something only my classmate would know. I'll do the same, I just need to eliminate the possibility of you being a villain shapeshifting." Gyoubu growled out, visibly displaying his coins to add to the threat.

"Woah woah man! Uhhhh, yesterday in English class, Present Mic threw chalk at Mineta 'cause he wasn't paying attention, and it got stuck to his hair for the rest of the day!" In spite of the situation at hand, the pair couldn't help but snort as the memory came back into the forefront of their minds.

"Good, I trust you. My proof is that... you've managed to whack the invisible girl about eight times in the past week with your tail without no-"

"Now!" An unknown voice screeched, from the position Gyoubu had heard the single step.

Something in the air shifted. Sources of bloodlust suddenly pricked up all around the pair.

"Get down!" They thundered at the exact same time, grabbing each other and pulling the other down to the ground, both having sensed the attack. It wasn't done a moment too soon, a whip of fire passing over them, exactly where their heads (for tail-boy, at least) would have been. As soon as the whip had passed they sprung up, standing back to back without a word.

They were completely surrounded. Steadily closing in was a group of at least twenty villains, closing in rapidly through side streets, and those with visibly different, likely flame resistant skin emerging from the burning buildings.

"Tail-boy. Stay behind me and out of my line of fire. I'm not pulling any punches today." Gyoubu muttered to his partner.

"Can do. My name's Ojiro, by the way. Wanna see who takes out the most?" Was his quiet response.

"Deal."

They both exploded into motion, the blonde rushing forward, tail ready and coiled behind him, and Gyoubu getting into a stance that looked as if he was firing two invisible guns, carried at the hip

He commanded them to spin. But not to First Rotation, nor to Second. He commanded them to the fragile band of RPM that was One Point Fifth Rotation.

All Might had said something to him, in his very first week of UA. An idea that someone such as Gyoubu should never have been given.

"Have you tried going in between… what did you call it? First and Second gear? They have such wildly different effects that I'm wondering what a combination between them would look like."

And so, the boy experimented that very night, leaving his home in the dead of night so he wouldn't be bothered. Relishing the feeling of the crisp night air, the boy made his way to a simple park, accompanied by an expansive wood at the far end.

A forest known for its bird population. Before Gyoubu had found it, that is.

The destination he arrived at barely looked like a park, for the ground was so ridiculously uneven, that standing straight was a difficult task in of itself. The gorges that ran up and down were an oddity too, not being gorges at all, but whirlpools of dirt that looked as if some plug had been pulled from beneath the soil. To a hiker, it would be a worrying sight, perhaps an animal with a powerful quirk was present amongst the wildlife? Perhaps sinkholes were opening?

To Gyoubu, it meant he'd forgotten to clean up the soil the last time he visited. But he paid it no mind, he had a job to do.

With the visual of the halfway point between First and Second Rotation firmly within his mind, he set to work, bathed in moonlight. He didn't stop when his hands bled and cramped. He didn't stop when sleep began to creep up on him. He merely kept at his work, constantly trying to find what he was looking for, regardless of it likely not existing. He still knew he'd find it, something within him assuring him whenever he felt like giving up.

He would leave the forest with One Point Fifth Rotation. That was set in stone when he first climbed over the locked park gates.

He left the forest drenched in blood and feathers, a placated smile adorned on his face.

The villains seemed to approach him in slow motion. It was amusing actually, to see the expressions of them as they charged randomly, with not even a semblance of unity. Some had ranged attacks already making their way to him. Whoever sent the fire whip was amongst them, a red-haired woman with wisps of flame orbiting her, already sending another whip. There was also an amusing man throwing what seemed to be a boomerang made of fur, which on closer inspection, was another, far smaller furry man, whose quirk likely transformed them into said boomerang. They were surrounding him quickly, but to him, it was more reminiscent of people walking on the moon.

It was always a good day when his opponents moved that slowly.

For his own amusement, he shifted the coins in his palm slightly, making a 'ka-chuk' noise, similar to the cocking of a gun. His thumb flexed and stretched itself one more time, before they disappeared from even Gyoubu's slowed perception. All that could be seen was the sweat and blood that flew away from it.

Comparing the boy's hands to a gun, and his coins to bullets didn't seem so unrealistic after they began to hit.

If First Rotation was a bomb, inaccurate, quick to lose energy, but extremely destructive, and Second was the equivalent of a tranquilliser dart, then One Point Fifth Rotation was a firing range of rifles from every direction.

The very first victim of the coins was a scrawny man, with a wild mop of orange hair. His quirk was a low level speed enhancer, meaning he was the closest person to Gyoubu when the massacre began.

He was the very first one to howl with agony.

He was not alone for long.

The Chinese burn is one of the simplest ways of causing non-permanent harm, so common that most people have experienced it before their age was in the double digits. The pain itself isn't caused by one of the usual means, there's no blunt force involved, neither is there any cutting. The natural tension of human skin works against itself, not having the elasticity to be stretched to a different part of the arm like it is, causing the burning sensation. But of course, most people don't have the grip strength to exceed the point of tearing the skin, so the pain is merely superficial. But of course, no one twisted your skin with so much force it began to rip apart. But of course, no one could make your entire body the victim of it, pulling your limbs towards the epicentre of the twisting force, rendering you unable to move as your skin was torn apart and limbs dislocated.

That was impossible right?

But that was exactly what One Point Fifth rotation would do.

Almost every single villain was hit by the first volley, Gyoubu careful not to hit anyone twice, as that could actually cause someone's death. Those who were lucky enough to be missed by the smallest of margins were instantly nailed once more, connecting this time. Not even the boomerang man was missed, being shot down before he even got close.

Falling was the most synchronised thing the semi-circle of villains did in the entire raid, the momentum of their charge forcing them to rub against the boiling asphalt as they fell. The second most synchronised thing they did was scream. Tears opened up nearest to the locations they were hit, blood immediately pouring out and staining their already unkempt outfits.

"God save m-" A single villain's prayers were cut short as their jaw was pulled away from their control, the whirlpool on their leg greedily sucking more and more skin towards it. The sounds of tearing became louder and louder, until stopping altogether.

Only to be replaced by the bloodcurdling sound of shoulders being pulled out of their sockets, and hip joints dislocating themselves. The sound of so many bones being dislocated at a single time was something he'd never heard before, and he never could've prepared himself for the impact it made on him.

He nearly began conducting, setting out the tempo and mood. For what else was required when watching an orchestra perform at full capacity, each and every performer giving their utmost best to create their piece? Every pop and sucking noise carried its own personality; the poor soul to the far left had a wonderful tenor in his shoulder, while a beautiful soprano was sung by the hips of the lady with the fire whips.

Absolute victory, sure it wasn't too much of a struggle for Gyoubu, but the symphony was not a treat he'd discredit. One last time, he smiled at the bleeding balls of flesh, before turning around to assist his partner.

Tail-boy (he could've sworn the blonde boy had told him his name, he must've forgotten it) was doing measurably worse against his share of the load, but for some strange reason, they all seemed to have stopped fighting? Every single one was looking towards his side of the street- ah, they were looking at what was happening to their comrades. They didn't seem as appreciative of the show as Gyoubu was, how curious. He couldn't imagine why.

Beginning his sprint towards the sitting ducks, the skin tearer took stock of both his injuries, and coin count. Both were horrible. One Point Fifth Rotation was the most damaging of the three, shearing off his thickened callouses as if they were butter. As a consequence, his thumb and index finger were bleeding heavily, making his hands slippery with the liquid. His coin count was barely any better, his useless tussle with mist-man (Kuroduro, was he called?) having wasted a majority of them, and his massacre taking up all but a handful.

What ever would he do? Surely the boy, nearly two metres tall, easily weighing over a hundred kilos, and city-renowned as a street fighter would stand no chance in a fist fight, none at all. He'd have to test out that hypothesis for himself.

"Blondie, snap out of it! I'll take your share of the fuckers if you don't." Gyoubu tauntingly said, tapping his partner on the shoulder as he passed his dazed form.

The thirteen or so villains dotted around his hastily recovering teammate managed to drag their eyes from the still screaming scum, staring at Gyoubu's approach with an emotion he lovingly recognised. Fear.

"I don't know what the hell you did to those guys over there, but if they die from that, we're both screwed." His classmate's fears weren't unwarranted, but in his experience, the skin tears were mostly superficial, so they'd live. Or at least, the birds he tested it on had lived. Probably.

"Don't worry, I have it under control." He really didn't. "Now are you gonna help me fight or not?" He taunted once more, trying to get the blonde to make himself useful.

A snake tongued man was the first to snap out of his funk, whipping his elongated tongue at Gyoubu's legs, the strike sharp, and quick enough to barely be visible, somehow screaming as they did so.

"Don't look down on ussss!"

Still sprinting at full pelt, the teen jumped clean over the blow, tucking his legs to his chest to avoid it, while still closing the space between them. Trying to make the fight amusing, he then reached into his nearly barren coin pouches, but didn't grab a single coin, merely clenching his fist. Snake-man's eyes widened, instantly trying to escape the fate of his colleagues. What he didn't expect to escape however, was Gyoubu's vicious right hook, catching him clean on the chin and sending him sprawling onto the ground.

"Good, you take responsibility if they die. Of course I'll help, you're the one stealing my takedowns anyway. Wanna split them? Six each, then whoever gets to the last one first gets 'em." Tail-boy striking a deal was a tad bit useless, considering they'd both reached opponents, and had already disabled a villain each.

"Deal." It was funny, the best Gyoubu had ever worked with someone was when they were both racing each other. They were roughly even, too, with Gyoubu only keeping up with tail-boy due to the experience difference, being able to dodge blows that his partner would've been caught off guard by, and being able to counter in ways that he wouldn't have attempted. The blonde was equalised by both his physical condition, from being uninjured, and his tail easily adding offensive power that his classmate had to strain to achieve.

Barely a minute passed before they churned through all but one of their opponents, both eliminating their last at the same time. Tail-boy was just a metre closer to the unfortunate woman, a strict looking brunette carrying a sledgehammer, so Gyoubu was forced to concede the fight to him, instead turning his attention to restraining the unconscious criminals.

Tail-boy was carrying some restraining rope in one of his pouches, so after the last villain had been felled, they began restraining the battered squadron. Something with the blonde was worsening though, his hands beginning to sweat and shake.

"Uh, Oniwa?" The boy sheepishly called out, Gyoubu acknowledging him with a nod. "I think it just dawned on me properly that we're teenagers being attacked by fully grown villains. What the heck is even going on? How the hell are you so calm?" His hands began shaking far faster, panic truly setting in.

"I… don't actually know, I think I should be panicking though." Great, very useful Gyoubu. That would help him so much. "When stuff like this happens I try and enjoy it, y'know? I don't know if it's the same for you since you can't really turn off your quirk, but ever since I was a kid I've always wanted to have permission to just let loose with my power. So the way I think about it is, right now, we're goddamn heroes, we're what every kid wants to be. It'd be a waste to panic the entire way through. And man, don't even worry about these shitty excuses of villains, you just saw how easy it was to get rid of them, isn't it easier to just have fun and wreak havoc?"

Tail-boy looked at him strangely for a second, hands completely still, before bursting into surprised laughter.

"I thought you'd say some therapist stuff! I can see what you mean though, but I wanna get the hell out of here before I get to 'enjoy' fighting another villain." The boy's hands still shook a small amount, but far less than before. Had the coin-wielder's unintelligible word vomit actually made a difference?

"I get you, I feel the same." Gyoubu absolutely did not. He'd have been more than glad to stay weeks in the USJ, clearing out every single villain there was. He doubted tail-boy would feel the same though, so settled for agreeing. The rest of the time restraining the villains was carried out in a focused silence, both of them not wanting to mess up and let an enemy go.

Leaving the sweltering ruins didn't prove too large of a task, the streets conveniently having arrows in the paint that lead to the exit, but by the time they were in sight of the exit they were uncomfortably sweaty, with tail-boy letting the top half of his gi slip off of his shoulders, to hang by his thighs. The distance closed rapidly, only a block separating the pair from fresh, non-smoky air.

A sound suddenly rang from the plaza, an unexpected instrumental solo that took Gyoubu by surprise. It was one of his favourite noises, one he was so familiar with, it sounded more like home, than what it actually was.

It was the unmissable sound of flesh colliding with concrete, and colliding hard.

It rang out again, with the crunch of bones joining it this time. Gyoubu began to sprint towards to exit door, wrenching it open when he got there. He had to know who was playing such a beautiful song.

Oh, of course it was the beast from earlier, who else could play such a visceral tune? Again and again, it was slamming a mass of torn black and grey cloth and blood into the ground, getting more and more powerful with every slam. Wait, that was Aizawa? That gave him an excuse to fight it! He was just protecting his teacher; everyone would believe that. And if he beat the beast that beat Aizawa, that'd logically make him stronger than his own teacher, and the bragging rights that came with an achievement like that was not something Gyoubu was resilient to.

Finally, he'd be able to go all out against someone who deserved it. He wondered how a beast with so much muscle would react to his coins. It's skin looked tougher than normal, too, so maybe One Point Fifth wouldn't be as effective? And if all his coins didn't work... how would he beat it in a fist fight?

He had to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you for reading my chapter, I hope by now some of you are getting a little invested in the story.
> 
> No, Gyoubu will not pull a new power out of nowhere and magically defeat Noumu through the power of friendship, before claiming a harem. Sorry to disappoint. 
> 
> Until next time, thank you for reading, and have an amazing day.


	9. The battle of Sisyphus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gyoubu fucking dies

Gyoubu had never been a particularly dramatic person when he fought. After all, most of his fights were in back-alleys, and the very last thing he wanted to do then was make a show of fighting, that was just inciting people to come check out the ruckus. Even just cracking someone's bones a little louder than usual could drag out patrolling heroes. But where he stood, staring directly at the great black beast? He couldn't resist it for a second. He took a great gulp of air, silently apologising to his vocal cords, before bellowing at the highest possible volume.

"My name!" Instantly, hand-man's curious attention was on him, and the eyes he could barely see belied both annoyance, and interest, as well as a slight wince at the harsh volume.

"Is Gyoubu Masataka Oniwa!" He had absolutely no idea what he was shouting, but he felt the uncontrollable need to release the overflowing amount of bloodlust within him. Every syllable of his name was emphasised, the sentence becoming more and more hoarse as he went along. Not wanting his declaration to provide an opening to the villains ahead of him, he launched into a sprint while inhaling for the next sentence.

"As I breathe, you will not leave undefeated!" He was close enough for the beast to be in coin range, a fact he used as he skidded to a halt, reaching deep into his pouches to collect the last of his coins. Curiously enough though, the beast hadn't taken its eyes, nor hands off of Aizawa. It didn't matter, he would force it to look at him. He had to win.

Within his clenched fist, he honed in on the seven coins he'd scrounged. They all touched his palm in some way, and just the barest contact was enough for his quirk. Commanding them was as easy as breathing, there was no physical sensation to it, merely the mental desire for pure power. Gyoubu was intimately familiar with that particular urge.

A noise similar to a chainsaw being revved rang out across the plaza, echoing along its walls, as the fistful of metal accelerated at once, grinding and sparking off of each other as they crossed the boundary of regular rotational speeds, into the domains of First and Second Rotation. They all vied to escape Gyoubu's hands, forcing him to clench down even harder on the handful, even as his hands became charred and eroded by the heat they emitted. A mere tenth of a second passed, and he couldn't feel the heat anymore, yet the orange glow his closed fist emitted told him that his pain receptors must've been burnt away. Luckily, his muscles and tendons hadn't given up yet, still resolutely holding Pandora's Box shut.

The chainsaw silenced, all grinding noises leaving as quickly as they had come. Barely a half second had passed, and Gyoubu had what he needed: his bleeding, smoking fist, and pure violence. He was ready.

Standing side on, he raised his front leg, before violently slamming it back onto the ground. In time with it, his shoulder extended his cremating fist behind it, before beginning to whip it forward like a trebuchet. The second his foot collided with the ground, nearly denting the concrete, right as his fist reached the peak of its swing height, and Gyoubu finally let the mangled appendage release its tension.

_'Go forth.'_

_'And destroy.'_

It was the first time he'd ever wanted to destroy something so bad. Let alone someone.

It reflected in his throw. A near hundred and sixty kilometres an hour rocket that covered the meagre twenty metres or so in a fraction of a second, colliding with the beast first with a dull thud, before the coins separated from each other, and the sound of stretching canvas rang out. He'd copied the move from old recordings he'd found online of an interesting, yet incredibly convoluted sport known as 'baseball'.

Mini whirlpools opened up across the leather-like tarp that barely coated the goliath's excessive muscles, the greedy swirls folding the animal into himself. It still likely wouldn't have looked at Gyoubu, but a coin on its neck forced its bird-like beak towards him, beady eyes barely reacting to the pain.

Even as the coins overcame the open-brained goliath's herculean strength, forcing it to the ground, dropping Aizawa in the process, its skin held on for a ridiculous amount of time- an entire second! But not even the freak of nature could take the forces of multiple coins at once, as deep, almost black, blood seeped through the tearing seams across its body.

"Pretty damn gory for a little hero-in-training, the way you attacked our Noumu. And you guys think you're so different to us?" Hand-man spoke casually, as if the violence before him was nothing new. He was a bad liar. Gyoubu could smell fear like a dog, and the subtle twitches in the scrawny villain betrayed his hidden panic. Oh it was so obvious, he hadn't expected anyone to be able to take out his little beefcake, did he? The white-haired hero couldn't figure out why he was still standing still though, wh-

A sudden wet, popping noise came from the Noumu. The multitude of tears streaming across its contorted body had all linked together, and with the last few rotations the coins had in them, its rubbery skin was popped clean off. All that stood was a hulking mass of blood and freshly exposed muscle, as naked as the day it was born (that is, if things like that were even born at all).

Gyoubu finally got his reaction: a shriek that would belong more to a dying bird echoed across the plaza. His ears harshly protested at the roar, but he didn't think for a second to cover his ears. It was simply bad manners to cover your ears at a symphony, no matter how loud the climax boomed. The blood-curdling screech must've reached the far ends of the USJ, since the faint sounds of battle momentarily paused.

"Damn, you skinned our Noumu alive?" Hand-man commented, far too nonchalantly for the massacre of his comrade. Though, he had simply watched Aizawa destroy the rest of his goons, so he may simply have not cared.

The Noumu had to be dead, no one could survive from having lost every single inch of skin they possessed, not even a monster who could defeat his teacher.

The Noumu had to be dead.

_Shit._

Gyoubu'd gone overboard before, countless times even. Whether it was breaking a pickpocket's ribs when he merely meant to brush them aside, or crushing jaws with testing jabs, it wasn't uncommon for him to cause damage he hadn't meant to. But he'd never killed someone. Not once. He would always take the extra care to focus his attacks on his adversary's arms and legs, just to avoid the chance of accidentally ending their life.

Was it because he cared whether they died or lived? Were his morals even stronger than his bloodlust could push to the side? Not in the slightest. Having police investigating after him like bloodhounds, having heroes assigned exclusively to breaking him, all of that was the penalty if he accidentally went too hard. That would be fun to evade, but a pain in the ass, so he avoided death like his life depended on it (which in a way, it did).

So of course he had to go and kill someone, right in front of his professional hero of a teacher. Genius, simply genius. Now he's really do-

When did the beast get its skin back?

"But you'll have to do a little more than that, little hero. Our Noumu is built to kill All Might, you think it wouldn't be able to regenerate?" Gyoubu was really starting to hate the scrawny ring-leader, he had too much arrogance for someone who hadn't lifted a finger to fight himself.

Wait. _'Built to fight All Might?'_

Gyoubu's shocked expression immediately slipped from his face, his usual toothy grin taking its place. If the thing was built to fight All Might, and if Gyoubu beat it, would that make him technically equal to The Symbol of Peace? He sprinted, his protesting legs kicking off the ground as he rapidly closed the remaining space.

"Why the hell did that make you happier?" There was almost a touch of warmth within hand-man's tone as he said that, yet it passed completely over Gyoubu's notice. "Whatever. Noumu, destroy our guest. Don't make me get my hands dirty."

So the Noumu responded to orders? How c-

A truck crashed into his stomach at top speed.

The feeling of travelling far too quickly took over his body.

He vaguely felt his back hit, and destroy something. Something far too solid.

Through eyes that were definitely not blurry with tears, he noticed that he was suddenly at the opposite end of the plaza, the remains of a concrete wall surrounding him.

His abdomen clenched in on itself, as if only reacting to what must've been a hit. Stomach acid ran up his throat, before emptying itself on his destroyed costume, coating it in half-digested chunks of food.

_Pain_

All he felt was pain. He could feel cuts on his back, from the sharp chunks of the destroyed wall. He could feel the burn of vomit in his throat. He could feel the complete lack of oxygen he had, from being winded so violently. Most of all though, was what felt like a full body bruise, burning as if he was aflame.

Gyoubu allowed himself a second more to bask in the pain, the glorious, glorious pain, and how it made him feel so alive, before cutting it out altogether. It was something he'd become adept at over time, the simple technique of focusing on something other than the pain, and allowing his copious amounts of adrenaline to dull it enough to be manageable. It was enough to turn his completely unbearable, unstoppable pain, into merely mostly unbearable, unstoppable pain. Small victories. Forcing his battered, bleeding limbs to obey him, he pulled himself from the wall.

Only to come face to face with the Noumu again, who appeared with a burst of speed to tower over him.

Purely fuelled by reflex, Gyoubu's shoulder whipped a right straight at the beast, sloppier than his form had ever been. His fist was barely even clenched, yet every ounce of force he possessed was mobilised in an instant, completely ignorant to any sort of strategy he could've employed.

The Noumu had done the exact same thing. In a shockwave of air that blew Gyoubu's cap clean off of his head, their fists met, perfectly halfway between the pair's hulking bodies.

Then came the cracking. In a single second, a cacophony of snapping noises came from the teenager's arm. He knew the sound, he relished in it, but never did he enjoy hearing it from himself. Still clenched, not having moved a single millimetre, the inhuman thing's fist was held completely unharmed, still touching the lump of skin and blood where Gyoubu's fist was supposed to be.

His entire right arm- no, it felt as if the entire right side of his body- was completely mangled. Bent at a clean ninety-degree angle, his forearm now sported an additional joint, at the end of which was what could have, at one point, been a hand, but was reduced to a bleeding porcupine of protruding bone.

He could almost see a grin on the vaguely beak-shaped mouth of his enemy. And why wouldn't it be smiling, when it had just crippled him with a single punch? Its fist became a reaching hand, slowly and deliberately, and took advantage of Gyoubu's frozen form to grasp the top of his head. Colossal fingers dug into his scalp, completely cutting off any possibility of worming free from their grasp.

As if Gyoubu's weight was less than a feather to it, the monstrously thick arm raised the squirming teenager to eye level, and the gleeful look in the beast's unhinged gaze told him all he needed to know. He was about to become like Aizawa, slammed into the ground until either he broke, or the concrete did. Trying to protect himself from the impact, the panicking boy curled into a protective ball, livid at the fact he hadn't been strong enough to avoid his teacher's fate.

Sudden cold rushed over him, as if winter had arrived all at once.

Through blood-crusted, squinted eyes, all he saw in the Noumu's place was ice, jagged, yet elegant enough to appear like it had been there since the very beginning. His head was released as well, causing him to thump unceremoniously against the ground as he tried, and failed to brace himself with his mauled arm.

"I'll handle this." The quiet, stoic voice of red-and-white-boy spoke from above him, standing between his sprawled form, and the half-frozen Noumu, steadily struggling within its glacial prison. How did his classmate even get there? He hadn't seen him when he was getting pummelled, though that might've been adrenaline-fuelled tunnel vision at work.

"Hey bastard! Don't you dare leave me out of this mess!" Came the coarse shouting from the right side of the plaza, which could only belong to explosion-boy.

"Yeah!" Was the echo from the boy at his side, the hardened form of Kirishima sprinting to keep up with his blonde classmate, both of them slightly late to the party.

The cavalry seemed to have arrived in full force. Which was exactly what Gyoubu didn't want. So what the Noumu had gotten a few good hits in on him? All it did was make him want to hit even harder back. Picking himself off of the ground, he barely restrained his glare at his classmates.

"Your party members are really carrying you here, how's the arm by the way?" Hand-man called out mockingly, already far, far closer to the group than he had been a few seconds ago. "You all seem to be having so much fun, and since the heroes are oh so far away, what's the harm in joining in a little?"

"Like hell, hobo!" Explosion-boy really had a way with words, didn't he? His actions conveyed his desires far more aptly, as the taunting villain was embraced by an ear-splitting explosion a half second later. It seemed the light show was ineffective however, as the dishevelled form of hand-man back stepped out of the smoke cloud, arms protecting his face.

"That all you got?" Slipped out of the villain's mouth, riling up Gyoubu's classmate further.

"I'm taking this cocky shit to hell, you fuckers deal with big and brawny!" The sandy-haired teen seemed to have taken a personal disliking to the villain's ringleader, and who could really blame him?

A mere few metres away, the three musketeers had been following their classmate's order before it had even been given, the trio already forming a hastily put together formation to even stand a chance against the colossus. Said colossus had broken free of its wintery prison in spectacularly gory fashion, completely tearing off the left side of its body as it escaped.

"This thing's got regeneration, on top of everything else? The hell even is this?" Came Kirishima's exasperated shout, the second time the Noumu had instantly regenerated a frozen off limb.

"This villain has a regeneration speed of more than a limb per five seconds, it has attempted murder, and none of us have any incapacitation quirks to use. It's… unfortunate that it may be our only option, but legally, I believe we are allowed to enact this beast's death." Was hot-and-cold's calm statement, although the condensation that came out of his panting mouth betrayed his image of total serenity. Kirishima's expression became noticeably more sombre at the limiting of their choices.

Gyoubu however, in a slightly worrying turn of events, caught his second wind at the information, rabid eyes brightening once more. Contrary to all expectations of a practically crippled man, Gyoubu's movements were as smooth as ever, if not even more fluid, due to only having to think about using one of his arms, being able to ignore his floppy limb. Said arm had been hastily strapped to his belt, so it didn't swing around and get more injured.

He and Kirishima bobbed and weaved around the bird-like beast, the two barely being able to dodge the strikes it would send at them, escaping being hit by the barest of margins. The pair knew they couldn't keep it going for long (which is to say, Kirishima knew he couldn't keep it up. Gyoubu still believed in his strength wholeheartedly), but buying time for their red-and-white classmate, and the heroes that had to come was worth the risk.

Hot-and-cold orbited the group, steely eyes scanning for openings in the creature's wild stance, and occasionally sending small streams of ice to interrupt its footing. If his assumptions about the Noumu's regeneration were right, all he would need is a single good attack, to stop the beast in its tracks while the brawling pair destroyed its exposed brain. That single attack could easily be their downfall though, as if it missed the boy would likely have no stamina left to attack once more, and they'd be steadily overwhelmed.

Only if he was at the brink of death, the stoic teenager murmured under his breath, would he use that side of his quirk. But until then, he would fight.

They all would.

* * *

**With Bakugou**

The blonde boy hadn't felt such a thrill since he watched first-hand, the power of All Might himself. That feeling of raw, vicious power, of danger, of unyielding strength, and sheer adrenaline was something the teen was unashamedly addicted to. And how could he not feel all of it, locked in that deadly dance?

His opponent was deadly in every meaning of the word, the crumbling chunk of one of his gauntlets attested to that. Every strike could cripple, and god did the bastard hit fast. Only his explosively propelled speed allowed him to weave around the adult, and even then he had to fend off the decaying touch, which came from every angle relentlessly. It had been relatively easy to figure out how the villain's quirk worked, the five-finger contact requirement being obvious from the way he struck. Working around that? A little harder. Dodging fists was far, far easier than dodging twenty fingers at once.

While he sized the other man up, watching for common attack patterns, Bakugou largely kept his distance. As far as he knew, hand-man didn't have any long-distance moves, but he more than made up with it with his sheer speed, being able to clear their range almost faster than Bakugou could increase it.

He had observed enough, and his confidence told him that no matter how fast and deadly the villain was, Bakugou could be even faster and deadlier. In a carefully crafted acrobatic move, he propelled himself up and over the other man, using his left hand to launch an explosion at his unguarded head, and before he even touched the ground, used his right hand to attack once more, this time gunning for his opponent's scrawny back.

Hand-fucker's speed extended, unfortunately, to his defence. Both explosions were nimbly dodged by a leap to the side, before the deranged man rapidly came back into range for the counter-attack, launching a swipe that the teenager dodged by a hairs-width. Not wanting to give the villain an opening however, Bakugou lashed out once more with an almost point-blank explosion, as he allowed the recoil to send him further away from his assailant.

They looked at each other for a fraction of a second, both seeing the thrill, the enjoyment in their eyes, and carried on with their deadly, crippling dance.

The teenager would never notice it until days later, but throughout his entire fight with hand-man, Bakugou hadn't spoken once, not having the room to formulate words.

He fought.

* * *

**With Gyoubu**

Kirishima was stuck in a wall, somewhere to the left. A vicious swipe had caught the boy when he was off-balance from dodging yet another furious barrage of punches, and had sent his hardened body careening into the concrete, where he struggled and squirmed as he tried to remove his arm from the stone prison.

He could almost hear the gleeful counting in the Noumu's head. _One down, two to go._

Hot-and-cold had been steadily slowing down, sending in less and less support as his quirk took its toll on him. It was clear as day that whatever opening he was looking for, couldn't be found, evidenced by the panicked gleam in his desperate eyes. Gyoubu could guess why he hadn't found his cue; the boy's ice could easily be broken by the beast's strength, that much was obvious. So it followed, that the only chance they'd have to kill it would be if the beast wasn't moving, even if it was just for a half second, so the ice it would be captured within wouldn't immediately shattered.

That was exactly the problem: The Noumu never stopped moving. Not a single second could pass without it lashing out, and even when it wasn't directly trying to murder the children, its feet would be constantly shifting, always getting closer to the wannabe heroes when they tried to retreat.

When Kirishima had been there, the close-quarters duo had tried every tactic in the book. The red-head had drawn the Noumu's attention, while Gyoubu had planted a savage kick to the monstrosity's genderless crotch. Other than that, Kirishima had tried to trip over the beast, and Gyoubu had attempted to sever the villain's tendons with a knife he'd found lying around, likely a remnant of Aizawa's fight. That one just plain didn't work, nearly causing him to nearly get his head trodden as he attempted to cut its Achilles, while the knife was broken clean in half by the giant foot.

And then Kirishima had been completely removed from the equation. Gyoubu's classmate was still trying to wrench his arm free, yet the creeping colour of blood told him that the effort was likely working against him. Either way, the boy had been slowing down towards the end of his tenure, stamina fleeting as his quirk worked overtime to cushion the Noumu's unholy strength.

So, it was just him, and his panicking classmate. The fight had become a blur to Gyoubu, likely a result of adrenaline (and a decent amount of panic), and he could barely tell how long it had gone on for. Evidently, not fucking long enough, seeing as not a single hero had arrived.

Surely someone had made it out the gates?

_Oh._

Oh _of course_ no one had.

Whichever classmates might've been fighting to leave the USJ had been forced to do so without the help of Thirteen, because of Gyoubu accidentally sending a volley of deadly coins at his teacher. Lovely. That meant that whoever had been up there had either been scattered across the USJ like he had, or were still fighting the sickeningly smart mist-man.

All he could do was pray that no one would die because of his mistake. But for now, he couldn't spare any thought to the other fights in the USJ, his own fight was far more pressing.

Half-n-half and him couldn't hold down the fort forever, and every blow he dodged, and every blow he caught, and every blow he threw, chipped his muscles down further and further. Even then, every slip away from a life-ending punch had ever shrinking margins of error. Even then, the ground beneath him became harder and harder to move across, as his legs showed signs of being close to their limit.

Gyoubu sidestepped away from a vicious jab, only missing the blow by a hair's-width. Hot-and-cold, who had given up on keeping his range, fought beside him, and launched an impressively quick gut punch. The taller teen countered with his classmate, kicking at the knees of the goliath. Both attacks bounced harmlessly off of the beast's flesh, not even a scratch or bruise to prove they'd attacked.

The most sickening part of it all was how obvious it was that the Noumu was going far, far easier on them than it could. When the beast had attacked Gyoubu earlier, he hadn't seen it even begin to strike, and the power it hit with was on a whole different level. Hand-man must've told the creature to slow down, take it easy, probably to draw out the fight. It was likely evident to the ringleader that the hero students were far, far below the level of the juggernaut, and from what had been seen of his personality, he probably found it entertaining to watch the students flounder against a villain at half power.

There was only one thing more frustrating than an enemy taking it easy on Gyoubu. That was an enemy taking it easy, and still winning. If he just had more coins, if his hands were just that tiny bit stronger, it wouldn't have to be so one-sided. No matter how short it might've lasted, Second Rotation absolutely worked on the Noumu, and First Rotation would've made destroying its brain or spine or whole damn body child's play.

But could he really be upset about that? Could The White Demon of Chiba, renowned for their hand-to-hand fighting skills, complain about having to fight hand-to-hand? Could the boy that dreamed nearly every night of defeating an undefeatable enemy, with his bare hands, complain about having the chance to do exactly that? Even if he had every right to complain, he wouldn't. No one complained about having the time of their life.

So he kept fighting.

It was obvious that continuing to attack the Noumu's limbs was an exercise in futility, he and his classmate had only been doing so because they were too short to really reach anything higher. It would take a ridiculously risky manoeuvre to grapple up the beast and attack its brain, something he and Kirishima hadn't even tried to do because of the massive openings it would leave. That is to say, Kirishima would've stopped Gyoubu from attempting to. Gyoubu had broken just about every bone in his right arm, which made it a little easier to think lightly about risking injury.

So Gyoubu couldn't say he really cared about risk anymore. So he acted upon it. He and Kirishima had attacked just about everything below the chest of the Noumu, so the only other possible openings were higher up, probably the eyes and exposed brain.

"Half-n-half?" He called out, receiving a nod of confirmation that his classmate was listening. "I'm about to do something real stupid. If I die, tell Cementoss that I've still got one of his orchids." Utter confusion spread across the shorter boy's face, and his mouth opened to say something, yet Gyoubu had moved before he even had the chance.

While the pair of boys had been still, talking, the Noumu had sent another half-power, sloppy punch down at the half-crippled teen, and Gyoubu instantly seized the opportunity. As the fist drew near, still impossibly fast, the boy leaped into the air, directly towards the outstretched tree trunk of a limb. His feet kicked off of the excessively muscled arm, launching him even further towards the bird-like head of the beast. Kicking once more off of its broad shoulder, he'd finally reached the head of the monster, and _jammed_ two fingers straight into the beady, deranged eyes of the Noumu, sticking them deep enough to touch bone. He then crossed his legs around the neck of the creature in a complicated manoeuvre he'd seen a street fighter do once, desperately aiming to keep himself on top for as long as possible.

Strangely enough, the Noumu's neck seemed a lot wetter than it looked, and what were those spikes?

_'Shit.'_

He'd managed to stick both legs directly in the beak? Mouth? Of the Noumu.

And it seemed to have no qualms with cannibalism. As the body below him thrashed wildly, gargantuan hands trying to tear him away, the mouth/beak thing he'd managed to get stuck in clamped down, razor sharp fangs cutting all the way to his bones. Searing pain shot through Gyoubu, yet it only drove him to dig his hand deeper, and deeper into the villain's sockets.

He had no idea whether he was going to lose his legs altogether, but if he was gonna lose his limbs to the bastard, he was gonna lose them with a bang. Still refusing to be pulled off by the rapidly tugging arms, the teen reeled his head back, before slamming his forehead against the villain's exposed, colossal brain.

A screech came from the beak of the colossus, muffled by his mauled leg.

So he hit again.

And then again.

And again.

And again.

Over and over, until his eyes were blurred with both blood, and stars in his vision from the constant impact.

At some point he opened his mouth, tearing out chunks of brain matter with every feral head-butt. It tasted of metal, yet dirt and sweat joined it. The texture left much to be desired as well, far too stringy.

The reaching hands, that attempted to pull him down, were slowly crushing his mid-section, and a vague cracking feeling told him his ribs were being crushed. His own blood began to seep out of his mouth as well, so he must've had some sort of internal bleeding.

But as he bit and smashed, the arms gradually became weaker and weaker, their prying force not as brutal as they were. Hot-and-cold was helping too, having frozen the legs of the Noumu to try and keep it from slamming Gyoubu to the floor. The deadly jaws clamped around his legs loosened as well, and the warm glow of upcoming victory began to well up within Gyoubu's heart, nearly smothering the rabid viciousness that compelled him to hit again.

Again.

And again.

And again.

There was little left of the Noumu's brain to tear out, yet the teenager tore and tore and tore. What was brain and what was the beginnings of a spine became a blur as his teeth gnawed at anything soft enough.

And finally, David toppled Goliath.

The knees of the great brute crashed into the ground with an earth-shaking thud, the impact finally sending Gyoubu slamming into the hard concrete as his legs gave out on him.

A fist raised to the air, covered in gore and the remnants of an eye.

He had won.

Against impossible odds, he'd won. With one arm and no coins, he'd won.

_So why had the Noumu gotten back up?_

He had won. So why had it stalked towards his mangled form, brain rapidly regenerating?

He had won. So why was he now being picked up by the top of his head again, his red-and-white haired classmate frantically trying to distract the Noumu?

He was supposed to have won, so why had explosion-boy been half disintegrated by the scrawny ring-leader?

He was supposed to have won. He'd earned it. Why was he being slammed into the ground, just like his teacher?

"It's fine now. I am here." He was supposed to have won, why was All Might saving him from the Noumu?

He was supposed to have won.

Why hadn't he won.

Everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man this chapter was hard to write. It was a lil tough to balance Gyoubu's Gyoubuness with how damn strong the USJ Noumu is.
> 
> And don't worry, Gyoubu won't just shrug off the injuries from the USJ, I fully intend to make this mf suffer.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! Have an amazing new years as well, let's hope 2021 is a little better.


	10. Weakness.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gyoubu takes drugs

* * *

Gyoubu's nose was assaulted by the overbearing smell of antiseptic the second he awoke. Nearly at the same time, his entire body was assaulted by the dull ache of wounds, no longer eased by adrenaline. As pounding eyes scanned his trapped form, he noticed the nearly full-body cast he was in, wrapping his limbs so tightly he couldn't lift a toe.

It was all proof that he had been injured.

It was all proof that he had _lost._

It was ok, he repeated to himself again and again, trying to stave off hyperventilation. He lost all the time. It was unrealistic to think he'd be able to beat _everyone._ It was ok. It didn't bother him. He could get over it. He wasn't breathing so hard his chest wraps audibly crinkled as they loosened. His eyes weren't swimming with aching, vengeful tears. He was fine.

It didn't matter, he chanted internally, as if his broken, mangled hands didn't sweat enough to make the inside of their casts slick. It didn't faze him. Itwouldbeokitwouldbeokitwou-

Who was he kidding?

He was disgusting. He was more than disgusting. He was an utter waste of oxygen, an arrogant mess of bloated pride and hubris.

He, Gyoubu Oniwa, couldn't beat the Noumu. Not even when he went beyond his limits, beyond Plus Ultra, and a step beyond that. Not even when he'd wrenched apart a brain with his teeth, jammed his fingers knuckle-deep into eye sockets, and let his legs become chew-toys had he been able to win.

And he had the gall to look down on his classmates, due to their comparatively low experience? And he had the gall to taunt and snark his enemies? To prance around with that disgusting moniker, as if he deserved even a fraction of the name of The White Demon.

His mind simply shut down, unable to continue functioning with more self-hatred than it could possibly manage. Without a choice in the matter, Gyoubu was sent straight back to sleep.

* * *

The next time the teenager awoke, he wasn't immediately sent into a frothing rage, which by Gyoubu's standards, was an incredible achievement. When a person like him got angry, it was generally a triumph to resolve it without any violence, so to fix it merely by sleeping? He had either attained enlightenment in the hospital, or one of the many tubes attached to him contained a sedative. It was far more likely to be the latter, he mused, uncharacteristically docile.

In fact, his new sense of calm quickly became a nearly magical experience. It was truly something ethereal, to hear the birds chirp outside his window, and not immediately think of how much prettier it would sound if they were shrieks. Was this how other people perceived the world?

' _If this is what it feels like to be hopped up on drugs, I think I might understand all those junkies a little more. Maybe I should take it a bit easier on 'em next time?"_

However, Gyoubu was hopped up on sedatives, not pixie dust, and so immediately rejected the idea.

The teenager attempted to physically shake off the train of thought, only to find that, on top of everything else, his neck was securely placed in a neck brace, uncomfortably tight. So he'd somehow managed to injure his vertebrae? Lovely. He could only pray he wasn't paralyzed, that would be a rather pathetic end to his career. Though, maybe with the power of Spin, he could force his leg muscles to walk again?... Food for thought.

More important than planning around being paralyzed, however, was learning if he was quadriplegic in the first place, leading him to clumsily press the 'Call a nurse' button at the side of his bed.

A few minutes later, an unassuming woman (barring her purple gills) in scrubs entered his room, clipboard in hand.

"Ah! Nice to see you're awake, Mr Oniwa."

"I'm glad to be awake, doctor." He replied. Or, at least tried to. His lips didn't seem to want to respond to him, and the sentence came out more like the babble a toddler, or drunk would produce. To the nurse's credit, she kept a mostly straight face to the slurring, only a hint of a smirk appearing on her face.

"That would be the sedatives. They might make it a little harder to speak for a while, but since you're relatively lucid it should wear off quickly. You were… quite feisty during your brief moments of being awake, so it was a necessity. You seem to be far calmer now though, and I trust that the odd behaviour was merely a product of the pain you were in." Gyoubu so wanted to tell her that that 'odd behaviour' was merely his bad mood, but his embarrassment at the hassle he had made, as well as his physical inability to speak had stopped him.

"I'll call a doctor to run all the proper tests on you, and with any luck, Dr Shuzenji should be here in an hour or two." At Gyoubu's confused, yet probably more drunk look, she clarified, "Your school nurse, Recovery Girl. She's somewhere in Osaka right now, helping an injured hero, but she's due here soon. We had to give you a night of rest, so her quirk wouldn't drain all your energy and cause any… complications."

"Right, while a hospital doctor arrives, I'll run you through your injuries, just so you can understand better why your entire body is in a cast. During your altercation with the villains of the USJ incident, you suffered multiple acute fractures of the fibula, tibia, and a majority of your smaller joint bones, the severing of multiple tendons, loss of almost all toenails, extensive bruising, burst capillaries in almost every patch of skin, and extreme, near fatal blood loss. Those were your legs; I would continue with the rest of your body but Dr Shimoda is here."

That does sound quite bad, doesn't it? The nurse's clipped drawl had taken a good few minutes to get through the injuries of just his legs, yet he imagined he'd be in there for over an hour if he asked for a light summary of his hand injuries.

Dr Shimoda's tests were largely just a regular check-up, barring any test that would require movement Gyoubu wasn't quite capable of yet. It was completely normal, and completely quiet, something the doctor chuckled at as he shone a light into the teenager's eyes.

"I remember, the last time I tried to do this, your eyes looked a great deal different. You eyed me up like a predator to their prey, it was really rather intimidating. You hate hospitals that much?" He finished, good-heartedly chuckling as he dealt with, what he assumed to be, a slightly traumatised, panic-prone teenager. Which, to be fair, was almost exactly what he _was_ dealing with, but the whole 'I want to kill you' thing was, unfortunately, all Gyoubu, albeit a half-conscious, not very cognizant version of the teen.

"Well, I'm glad you seem to be back to normal. You did your class a great service, I hear; you've had the vast majority of your class visit you while you were out. In fact, you've got a couple more booked in a little later. Popular guy, eh? They've probably got a hero's welcome prepared for when you get back, along with those other three boys." While Gyoubu usually hated small talk, the kind doctor's comments relaxed him a great deal, even as his bandages were fussed over, and IVs removed.

"Right, looks like everything's as it should be. I must say, you're an awfully lively young man; most of your larger lacerations have already scabbed over, something that usually takes a couple more days. And… well if I'm completely honest it's a miracle you're not paralyzed, you've suffered extensive damage to the spine. You truly are resilient, and I'm sure Dr Shuzenji should get you right back to full health soon enough. I'll let you rest until she arrives; she should be about…" The greying, gentle man checked his watch quickly, "Forty or so minutes. Get well soon, Mr Oniwa." With that, Dr Shimada paced out of the room, nurse in tow, jotting down on the nurse's clipboard.

For perhaps ten or so minutes, Gyoubu had merely stayed still, humming to himself as he enjoyed the last of the sedatives effect. However, it noticeably faded away, blowing away the clouds and cobwebs over the boy's thinking, leaving him vulnerable to the prying thoughts of inadequacy. Fortunately, not even a man like Gyoubu could switch between utter calm and feral rage, merely because he felt like that was what he was supposed to do.

Though he felt like a hippy for saying it, being drugged had been enlightening. Without the constant, pounding desire to rip and tear and be the absolute strongest, coping with his loss had been far, far easier. Because it was obvious, at least under sedation, that Gyoubu had simply been at his type disadvantage, as if he were a Pokémon. The teenager was, when fully stocked, a mid-range beast, able to tear people apart without touching them. When he was out of coins, forced into close-range (which, as much as he protested, was not his most powerful range), and already heavily injured, fighting a pro-hero level monster was damn near out of the question.

Of course, he'd done it anyway, and only the creature's regeneration had kept victory from him, screamed the part of his brain that cursed the loss viciously. But that wasn't the point. What was important was that he had been at his utter disadvantage, and had come out of it having done better than his pro-hero of a teacher, Aizawa.

It was a weak sentiment, yes, to merely accept a small victory during an overwhelming loss, but if that weak sentiment tided him over so he didn't break down in the middle of a hospital, then so be it. There would be time for self-deprecation later, preferably when he had someone to take his frustrations out on, and wouldn't cause a fuss for overworked hospital staff.

And so, with the mighty power of being embarrassed to be a bother, Gyoubu managed to stave off a panic attack as he waited for Recovery Girl to arrive, who thankfully only took half the time he expected, arriving twenty minutes earlier than he was expecting her. Though, looking at her entering form, he could see why. Her miniscule legs were waddling at lightning pace, a display that would've been hilarious if not for the utterly murderous air around her.

She was _pissed._

" **YOU."**

She was _beyond_ pissed.

"In all my fifty years of nursing you idiotic kids, I have _never_ had such an utter braindead excuse for a student. Why don't I explain it in a way that even you may understand?" Without waiting for Gyoubu to respond, the tiny old lady pressed on, "Imagine my shock and horror, when out of the clutches of a terrorist attack, I get hold of a student more mauled than any villain, student, or hero that was there. I could only imagine what had happened. Were they ganged up on? Were they targeted from the start, beaten to the ground and tortured? Just how much trauma would they come out with, if they even came out at all?" The nurse's tone was innocent, and worried, yet the teenager feared the dangerous glint in her eyes.

"So imagine my _surprise_ when I watch the recordings of where this young boy got his injuries from." She let the sentence hang, letting Gyoubu know _exactly_ what she was talking about.

"I've seen every single way my students react to danger. Some of them run, maybe at first sight, maybe when they've got a scrape or two. Some are heroes to the core, waiting til they've saved people, and only fighting who they need."

"You. You ran into the danger, a smile on your face. Every time the danger got worse and worse, that smile got bigger and bigger. Just what made you think for a _second_ that you should fight the Noumu? Did you not see what it had done to Aizawa? Who, might I add, is a professional hero with years of experience? And even after you attacked it from a distance, why on earth would you still try and fight, after seeing how much stronger it was than you? And even _then,_ when you had classmates to hold down the fort, to keep you safe, you continued to fight the villain that destroyed your right arm. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

As much as Gyoubu wanted to tell the lady that throwing himself into danger was the whole damn point, it was fun and it, usually, achieved something, he knew that would likely make the banshee even more livid at him, so refrained.

"I apologise miss; I think I may have gotten a bit… carried away." His speech came out only a small bit slurred, but more than clear enough to be understood.

"Being 'carried away' is the largest understatement I think I have ever heard. You do realise how lucky you are that no journalists were there to record the incident, right? The kind of behaviour you showed would cause an outcry about UA accepting unstable students-" Before the woman could say any more, Gyoubu interrupted her.

"What do you think?"

"Sorry?" Came the nurse's confused reply.

"Do you think I'm mentally unstable? You're a doctor, you'd know these kinds of things, right?" His tone must've been more desperate than he thought, since a sheen of worried affection crossed the stern nurse, and the demonic air quickly eased away.

Because, in spite of all of his… tendencies, Gyoubu was still a teenager. A teenager that, regardless of his reasons, still aspired to be a hero, and still cared about how people viewed him.

"Sonny," she sighed, the weariness of her age showing, "I was expecting some sort of psychological reason to it… I dislike labelling people, that sort of nonsense is done too much as it is with all the heroes and villains being thrown around. I would never call you mentally unstable, but I can see that you've got more intricacies than most. Maybe those manifest as enjoying the adrenaline rush of fighting a little more than your peers, maybe they manifest as a little less reservations towards force, and maybe… they manifest as feeling as if you deserve the injuries you incur. None of those things would be uncommon by any stretch of the imagination, especially among heroes." Drawing her tiny frame up onto the side of his bed, she carried on talking.

"Off the top of my head, the UA guidance counsellor, Mr Inui? His hero name is Hound Dog. You should've seen him when he started out in UA!" Soft, nostalgic chuckles emanated from the lady, before resuming at Gyoubu's questioning look. "He was an absolute terror. His quirk, you see, not only gives him the abilities of a dog, but some of their personality traits, too. You can imagine how that could pan out. He used to have a territorial streak a mile-wide, and most of his friendly spars devolved into vicious brawling the second he showed any signs of difficulty. Now think about how he treated villains."

"I can only imagine the grey hairs he gave his teachers." The teen responded mirthfully, having almost completely forgotten about his own issues.

"He was an utter riot, I tell you. Now how did he turn from the most bloodthirsty teenager I've ever met, to a _guidance counsellor?_ Right, now I know you kids like the back of my hand, and you're probably thinking something dramatic happened to him. Killed a criminal by accident, lost a partner to violence, maybe?"

"Along those lines, yeah."

"It was none of it. It was no single event. The boy simply grew and grew, and over time, he completely transformed. He didn't need to be shocked into it, he just needed the time to mature. And sonny, you're _15._ You've got all the time in the world."

The words hung in the air for a moment, the impact of them remaining as if they'd been physically imprinted into the air. That feeling of pride, of blossoming warmth in his chest as victory approached came crashing down upon his chest in waves, almost painfully strong. He'd… never gotten that feeling from anything other than violence.

"Thank you, thank you very much."

"Telling my old wives' tales are the very least I can do for you. Now let's get you healed up, I've got places to be and people to heal."

SMOOCH

He doubted he'd ever get used to the unnatural extents Recovery Girl's lips would stretch, nor the ungodly sound it'd make when it touched his cheek. The sudden fatigue that came with her quirk helped in containing his revulsion, as well as the distinctly uncomfortable feeling of your bones stitching themselves back together, subtly shifting and writing underneath your skin. Aside from the obvious, that sensation alone was what kept Gyoubu from breaking his bones more than he had to.

"Still awake? I thought that would've knocked you clean out. You were born with a strong body, please don't cripple it before you've even finished puberty. With that happy note, Mr Oniwa, I'll be off. I'm sure a nurse will come shortly to get rid of your casts. I never want to see you in a hospital again, you hear?"

"I'll try, miss."

"None of that 'trying' nonsense. You're a strong-willed boy, I have no doubt that if you truly want something, you'll get it in the end. Mind doing me a favour and put some of that will towards protecting yourself?"

"I can tr- I can do that. I'm gonna do that."

"Good lad, now rest! You've got visitors later, I'm sure they don't want to meet a half-conscious dope." Taking the initiative as she always seemed to do, the old nurse hopped off Gyoubu's bed, swiftly waddling towards the door.

"Miss?" He called out, and the doctor's questioning gaze answered him.

"Thank you."

The old lady merely smiled, soft and gentle, and left the room.

* * *

"It'd be totally unmanly to wake him up! After the injuries he got, of course he would need some rest!" Came the enthusiastic voice of a certain red-head, immediately shaking Gyoubu out of his sleep.

"The shithead's been sleeping long enough, damnit! That nurse bitch said he slept straight through his blood tests. I'm telling you, one explosion ain't gonna kill him!"

Why the hell was Kirishima and explosion-boy arguing at the foot of his bed?

"…I agree with Kirishima. We'll see him in class on Monday regardless."

Hot-n-cold was there too? Ah, the doctors had mentioned visitors, the trio must've been what they were referring to.

"No need to blow me up, I'm awake."

"Oniwa-bro!"

"Shithead, finished your beauty sleep?"

The two louder classmates had very… unique ways of speaking. Immediately, he preferred half-n-half, whose speech pattern was delightful, polite silence. It seemed spending time with Shouji had rubbed off on him more than he thought.

"So you guys are the visitors I was told about?" He questioned, trying to settle into small-talk.

"Yeah! I managed to wrangle these two into it too, it was a real test of manliness! We were put in the same hospital room for a bit, ya see, and though they're all tsunderes and wouldn't say it, I could tell they wanted to see you, so here we are!" Came Kirishima's bouncy reply, his classmate's enthusiasm shining through, uncaring of blondie's increasing anger.

"Shitty-hair! Don't speak on my behalf, idiot!" The shout was punctuated with a swipe to the redhead's head, which was ducked under with a faux-wounded look.

"I know you were thinking it anyway! I just gotta say it cause you're all constipated looking and antisocial!" All through Kirishima's sentence, the boys engaged in a mini fight, swatting at each other as they weaved around the room.

"Tch, whatever." Explosion-boy conceded defeat for the moment, unable to land any proper hits on his classmate.

"As much as you guys' fighting is entertaining, didn't you say you wanted to talk to me? Anything you wanted to say?" The white-haired teen had sat himself up in the hospital bed as much as he could with a neck brace, marvelling at the feeling of having all his bones in the right places.

"Oh yeah! I dunno about the other two, but I came to thank you for helping with that big ol' villain at the USJ. It was super manly how you kept fighting, even when you were injured! I just wish I coulda' been there to back you up, bro," at that, the teen rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, before visibly shaking his doubts off, and gazing back at Gyoubu determinedly. "But anyway! I also wanted to say that we should totally spar sometime! We never really finished in that one training exercise, and I totally wanna see how I stand up to you!" At the mention of a possible fight, Gyoubu almost visibly perked up, keenly listening.

"Damn right we need to finish that fight; as soon as the hospital says I'm good to go, you're on." The white-haired teen responded, a sharp grin stretching across his features, to which Kirishima responded in kind.

"Hell yeah! I'm way too pumped to stay here, bro! I'm heading off to the gym, don't let the constipated twins be all awkward!" And with that, the redhead left the room, making exclamations something along the lines of 'the power of youth!' as he left.

And then there were three.

Without the friendly, albeit slightly overwhelming presence of Kirishima, the temperature of the room seemed to drop a few degrees. Shooting glances at each other that were _definitely_ not out of awkwardness, the silence persisted for a frigid few seconds.

"Tch, redhead was right about me wanting to talk to you, even if he was an annoying fucker about it. I ain't here to thank you though, none of that pansy shit. I've already said this to Mr silent half-n-half over here, but just cause you extras were fighting the Noumu doesn't mean you're any better than me, you hear? As soon as your dumb ass gets back to school, I'm gonna put you right back in your place, stepping stone."

"You saying we're gonna fight?" Gyoubu put on his best tough-guy voice, the kind he heard from alleyway opportunists when they were trying to be intimidating.

"And what if I am, D-lister?"

"So we can't just shake hands and get ice cream? I was planning to go do that with Shouji and Kouda, I'm sure you can come along too." He switched tones to friendly, so saccharine it nearly rotted his teeth as it came out.

Part of him said it to piss his classmate off, since it was always funny when the tiny Pomeranian got in a huff. Another part of him, who also wanted to piss the boy off, had the fight in mind. Gyoubu, when fighting, was pretty much always as pumped as he could be; vicious and nearly rabid. His usual opponents though? They weren't always the same, and getting them riled up and angry was the best way to put them at the same level, which always made fighting more fun.

"The hell is wrong with you? Shitty-hair asks you to fight and you're all sunshine and daisies about it, then when I ask you're trying to get out of it? What makes me any different to him?"

Gyoubu could be nice. He could get out of the conversation with no ill-will shared, just teenage boys being teenage boys.

But where was the fun in that, especially when he'd been provoked first? And yeah, a small bit of it was the teen wanting to experience a victory again, even a verbal one, not that he'd admit it.

"Maybe I only accept challenges from people who are actually worth it?" The words slipped out of his mouth with a brutal grin, and for a moment, explosion-boy stood completely still, as if paused in time.

With most members of his class, Gyoubu would be relatively sure that they wouldn't assault him while he was in a hospital bed. With the blonde? He was not so confident.

Fortunately, the boy merely chuckled. A gravelly noise, harsh to the ears as it reverbed on the room's walls.

"You really do think you're hot shit, huh? Whatever. I ain't gonna destroy you while you're still in hospital, you'll end back up in here anyway by the time I'm done. I'm going the fuck home; you're boring." With a snarl, the livid teen kicked open the door to the room, trudging out with a scowl firmly adorned on his face.

And then there were two.

Having lost yet another loudmouth, the room regained the silent awkwardness it had had. This time, however, there was no angry blond to break the silence. Half-n-half merely stared at him, so it seemed it was up to Gyoubu to break the ice.

"I know we've been classmates for a couple weeks now, and have kinda fought for our lives together already, but I don't remember ever catching your name. I've been calling you half-n-half in my head for a while now, but that's getting a bit repetitive." Gyoubu blabbed, saying the very first thing that came to mind. At a certain point in the nervousness scale of the boy, Gyoubu merely started saying his thoughts, with the barest of filters on the content. After dealing with Kirishima and angry-boy, his nerves were far past the point of carefully moderating his speech.

"Shouto Todoroki."

Gyoubu tried to commit the name to memory, while waiting for the teen's next words.

And waited.

Was…

Was that all he was going to say?

"Oh… uh… nice to meet you Todoroki. I'm Gyoubu Oniwa. It was good to fight with you at the USJ." He stammered out, already uneasy under the gaze of Todoroki.

"I'll cut to the chase. I believe I've figured something out about you." Came the stoic statement from his classmate, tone resolute and confident.

Oh _shit._

Hearing someone say they figured you out was always ten times scarier when you'd been an illegal vigilante since you started puberty.

"Are you one of Endeavour's illegitimate children?"

…

…

He couldn't say he expected that one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all had a good holiday.
> 
> This chapter was basically a cool-down from the hype of the USJ. There's gonna be one or two more chapters like this before we move onto the sports festival arc and get back into the action.
> 
> If you review, could you tell me how I am at writing dialogue? As a very antisocial person, I can't say I have the greatest handle on how conversations tend to go, so writing them realistically is a challenge.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading! See you next chapter.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Hospital life.

* * *

"Are you one of Endeavour's illegitimate children?"

…

…

"What the _fuck?"_ Gyoubu was thinking… Gyoubu didn't really know what to think. To his knowledge, his parents had been married at some point during his early life, since there had also been a divorce at a later point, which _should_ exclude the possibility of Endeavour being his father. He was pretty sure that if his mother had been married to the number two hero, he would definitely have known. Unless his mum had… nope. He was not going to think about his mother creating him out of an affair.

"Wh-where the hell did that come from?"

"From your immediate reaction, you don't think he's your father, so I'll explain. I not only believe you are one of his children, I believe you are a brother of mine."

' _Since when was Todoroki related to Endeavour?'_ He could vaguely remember hearing something on the news about there being a famous hero-spawn in his year, was that Todoroki? Ah, the half-n-half quirk would make sense then. Kinda cool how he ended up with a quirk with opposite powers, he must've been real lucky with his parents.

"You… you didn't know I was related to him?" The boy looked almost as concerned as he did bewildered at Gyoubu's utter lack of common knowledge, which must have been clear on his face.

"Was I supposed to know?"

"The class was clamouring about it when we did class introductions."

Ah, that would make sense. He really should've known then.

Wait-

"We did class introductions?"

"Yes. You participated in it too. I… think you fell asleep soon after."

"Oh." He did have a vague memory of sleeping during something or another… He'd probably gone on one of his last proper vigilante sprees the night before, that tended to make him a bit of a walking zombie the next day.

Weren't they supposed to be talking about something?

"Anyway, I have my reasons for believing you're related to me."

That. How he wished Todoroki had just forgotten about that.

"You are far taller than average, a trait that has been in my father's genetics for generations. You are physically talented, and built very broad, also a trait of my father's line. White hair, just like my mother. Gaunt, defined face." The boy listed off, seeming blissfully unaware of just how flimsy his points were.

Was Todoroki… alright, mentally speaking? All those traits weren't rare by any stretch of the imagination, not in a quirked society. And did his classmate not realise that they would probably have to be twins to be children of the same two people, at about the same age? Now Gyoubu was absolutely horrible at biology, but even he knew that twins wouldn't look as different as he and Todoroki did. For god's sake, there was over a head's difference in their heights! But yet, his classmate's assumption held something strange to it, a disconcerting feeling Gyoubu couldn't easily shake off.

"There's also the way you look at things. No matter what you look at, you always look like you're looking for a challenge. My father doesn't view villains as criminals, merely people who he can fight. I see that in you too." The boy continued, a steely inflection in his voice.

So people noticed his glee when fighting? It was probably an obvious, easy observation to make, but unfortunate nonetheless. If he strained himself unnecessarily, he could probably conceal it from at least a few people, but was that really worth the effort? Absolutely not.

"So that's about it, I believe there's a slim chance you're my brother. I know it's extremely unlikely, but with the offspring of top heroes, it's better to take a useless paternity test than have your lineage wasted." There was an odd note in the boy's voice. It was almost melancholic, no. That wasn't it. There was none of the wistfulness of melancholy, only the desire it contained. Todoroki was desperate.

Why on Earth would he b-

_Oh._

Gyoubu was horrible with emotions, but even he could see the thought process like a flow chart.

His classmate obviously didn't have the best relationship with his father, and the way that he was even more socially maladjusted than Gyoubu spoke volumes of a… less than stellar childhood. The vast majority of kids would be bragging to everyone they could wrangle if their father was one of the greatest heroes of all time, so the fact that Todoroki spoke only of his father's flaws was further damning evidence. He had either been neglected or abused, so what did someone do, when their experience of family had been almost completely negative?

Easy, they look for family elsewhere, family that won't hurt them. Even if that manifested itself as seeing similarities as more than just coincidence.

And _damn,_ the whole affair made Gyoubu a million times more grateful for his loving parent, even if he lacked a second one.

Knowing why Todoroki was making the assumption didn't really make it clear what he should've done. For all he knew, his classmate may have just been a conspiracy theorist at heart, who didn't like his father for normal, teenage reasons (though the burn scar made that unlikely, seeing as said father had a flame quirk). He couldn't just explain to the stoic boy that no, he wasn't related to him, and that he should go to therapy to cope with his childhood abuse. People didn't usually respond well to things like that.

"Alright, I'll try and get a paternity test done." And so, he simply decided to go with what Todoroki had requested. Of course, he had no intention of actually doing the test, hoping to stall it until his classmate simply forgot about it and moved on.

"Thank you, I've actually got one here with me." His classmate replied, almost cheerful, as he unzipped his bag to procure a set of tubes, complete with swabs.

"Oh- uhh, cool." Gyoubu stuttered out, completely put off guard by Todoroki's level of preparedness. Who the hell had a paternity kit on standby? And why did the whole affair remind him of those tacky reality TV shows?

"Now say 'aah'."

He thought green-hair-n-freckles was his weirdest classmate, what with his muttering and nonsensical quirk. He was wrong, very wrong.

* * *

A minute later, and a vial full with a swab of his saliva, his classmate left the room with barely another word shared. Feeling thoroughly violated, Gyoubu could only blink at his shrinking form, wondering just how he'd managed to get roped into a having a swab stuck in the back of his throat, of all things.

Well, it wasn't like there were any negatives to it. If he wasn't related to Endeavour? Great, he wasn't the son of a (likely) abuser, and Todoroki would leave him damn well alone. Wonderful! If, somehow, he was related to him… He supposed that the Number Two hero would have a decent inheritance to cash in on, when the time came. And he supposed it would also answer the question of just who his father was, not that that was really something he lost sleep over.

Speaking of family, for a second, he entertained the possibility of just asking his mother about it. Then, he thought about the woman who worked multiple jobs just to provide for him, who came home so exhausted that she could do little more than collapse onto the sofa and accept a shoulder rub. Did she need to know about his conspiracy theorist of a classmate? No. No she absolutely did not.

But, with classmates gone, wounds healed, and only itchy casts to keep him company, Gyoubu finally relaxed. A nurse would arrive soon to remove the wrappings, and he'd be able to go home and sleep for a week. He was almost tempted to begin singing to himself again; that had been strangely relaxing.

"I AM HERE!"

Or not.

' _Oh for fucks sake.'_

All Might was in his room with barely a warning, scaring the soul straight out of Gyoubu as he appeared in a burst of speed.

"ONIWA MY BOY, HOw are you feeling?" Halfway through his sentence, his teacher deflated into his true form, after triple checking that the door was closed, and window blinds firmly shut.

"Exhausted, Mr Toshinori. Itchy too, these casts suck." Why couldn't it be a nurse arriving in a flash, chainsaw in hand to remove the offending prisons? He would tear them off with his teeth, had his neck not been in a brace that prevented any real movement.

"Haha! I know how you feel; hospitals are a personal bane of mine. You are healed though, yes?" Gyoubu nodded. "Marvellous! You are one of the last to be healed, and it's heart-warming to see the tenacity of you youngsters in getting back on your feet."

God, All Might spoke like, and probably was, a grandad.

"Now, onto more serious matters. I'm afraid I must apologise to you. If I had only been there at the USJ, you would not have had to suffer a single wound. I am truly, truly sorry." The skeletal man bowed to his student, true remorse in his voice.

People would pay thousands to have the greatest hero apologise to them personally, yet Gyoubu mostly felt annoyed. And itchy. Very itchy. All Might, of all people, should've known just how impossible it was to save everyone and anyone all at the same time. Hell, he didn't think he would have minded if All Might expected a thank you for saving Gyoubu from being either crippled or killed.

"Ah, don't worry about it, sir." Was his uncomfortable reply.

"You sound very awkward about accepting my apology, unused to adults seeking forgiveness? I admit, most people my age wouldn't be caught dead apologising to a teenager, but I do suppose I'm not most nearly-fifty-year-olds. My old age aside, I heard you just met with some of your other classmates, did they seem well? You four were some of the more wounded of the class."

They were? Gyoubu could understand himself being one of the most injured, but the others? They seemed fine.

A memory flashed into the forefront of his mind, of explosion-blonde having skin and muscle flake off of him, scattered into the wind as blood cascaded in thick rivulets.

On second thoughts, he was surprised they had even bothered to visit him, seeing as they likely had their own trauma weighing them down.

"They seemed pretty okay, and they didn't seem injured at all, really." That reminded him, how were his other classmates? "How are the others, by the way?" The question was more out of curiosity than genuine concern, but it seemed to make All Might brighten nonetheless.

"Good to see that heroic desire to check up on your peers! You were one of the most heavily wounded people, the only ones that came close were Izuku Midoriya, Tsuyu Asui, and your teachers. Your two classmates, you see, were separated from the class in just a pair, like Ojiro and yourself, but had a harder time of escaping. I am unsure about Asui, but young Midoriya seems to be well on the way to recovery, and Recovery Girl has already visited him. Your teachers too, are doing well, though I imagine Aizawa will still be out of commission for a week or two." His teacher informed him, his speech too smooth to be anything but rehearsed. All Might usually had a slight nervousness to his speech when in his skinny form, as if his confidence was stored in his muscles.

' _The school's using All Might as their therapy dog then, huh? They probably sent him to the rest of my classmates. It makes sense too, what better teacher to raise your spirit than the one who saved your life effortlessly?'_

"They sent you to most of my classmates, right? Is there anything else you need to tell me?" He was finally realising just how little he really knew about the situation. Hell, the doctor that visited him hadn't told him anything about his recovery.

"Aren't you an observant one? But yes, I am making rounds of the hospital at the moment. Anyway, what did I need to tell you, again?" The skeletal man checked a slip of paper, drawn from within the depths of his oversized suit. "Here we are: school does technically restart on Monday as usual, but you are free to take the week off if you need it for any reason. Don't worry about the press either, none of them know who you are, so you won't find yourself accosted at any point. Now, we do understand that this was a traumatic event, which is why a meeting with the school guidance counsellor is heavily recommended, though it will not be obligatory. Should you want a third-party therapist, UA will cover the costs. That's all I need to tell you, though I'm sure you'll get a briefing when you return to school."

All Might said a whole lot of nothing, as far as Gyoubu was concerned. If he could walk, he'd be at school the first day it started back up. And therapy? It'd probably lead sooner to his arrest than to a better mental state, so ultimately he decided against that as well.

"Thanks, Mr Toshinori. I'll make sure to be there on Monday, as long as I'm discharged by then. Uh, would you mind grabbing a doctor for me? I'm not really sure how healed up I am, and I don't want to break anything again. Also my casts. I'm begging you at this point. These burn." If he had a flame quirk he'd torch the hospital to the ground just for making him wait in the casts for so long. Stupid lucky Todoroki.

"Of course, my boy! Wouldn't want to keep you waiting. And by the way, don't you ever feel lesser because of your new facial scars. They are proof of your survival, and will to fight. Let them only be a bad thing to me, as a reminder to go Plus Ultra, so I may prevent any more marks."

New scars? Huh?

Involuntarily, he remembered the feeling of being slammed face-first into concrete, shards of the broken cement slicing his flesh.

He could see how he had scars. But he could still see, talk, and smell perfectly fine either way, so it wouldn't ruin his aspirations, at least. The red-eyed teen could only pray they weren't in the shape of anything annoying; he'd hate to have a scar conveniently formed like a dick.

Bulking up once more, his teacher thundered out of the door, scaring the daylights out of a patient walking past. In a burst of speed, the Symbol of Peace raced down the hallway as he boomed out a call for an available worker. No less than five seconds passed before All Might returned, flustered doctor in his arms bridal style, and a passionate shout on his lips.

"I AM HERE… WITH A DOCTOR!"

Gyoubu could complain about the utterly unnecessary volume of the hulking man, but merely chose to be thankful his teacher was at least fast.

"I'll leave you two to do your medical things, whatever they are! See you in school, Young Oniwa!" Before Gyoubu could even send a response back, All Might opened a nearby window, and leaped out of it with a cliché chuckle. It seemed being in his buff form changed more than just his appearance, judging from the way his heroic cheesiness multiplied tenfold.

He and the doctor, a weary-looking lady with a third arm sprouting from her back, blinked owlishly at each other for a moment. She regained her senses quickly, shaking her head tiredly as she moved towards Gyoubu without a word.

Though it took an incredibly long of time, due to the sheer amount of bandages he was encased in, she quickly and silently worked through them all. That is to say, she was silent until she saw the flesh underneath the heaps of coverings.

Every time a patch of exposed skin was revealed, she would hiss in sympathy and cringe, and for good reason too. All over his body were the white blotches of scar tissue, rough and uneven from the chunks of rock that had raked through him. The worst were his legs, with clear bite marks imprinted onto them, forming dents in his skin from when they'd dug straight to his bone. Yet, in the spirit of a true professional, she didn't stop for a single second as she continued, moving on to his neck brace, before setting her sights on his almost mummified arms.

As she unwrapped his left hand, he found it was surprisingly scar-free, likely because the entire surface was scar tissue to begin with. All that was different was a few more white blotches, but even that was nothing, compared to the trenches of old wounds already there.

"Oh my god." She looked like she had seen a ghost, and with shaking hands grasped his own, as if she couldn't believe it was real.

"Is- is something wrong?" Gyoubu questioned, utterly confused at what had ruffled her so much.

"I don't know what caused your injuries, and I'm not supposed to ask either but… just what on Earth happened to your hands? What could cause a child's hands to look like this?" Voice soft and tender, the woman spoke with the voice of a concerned mother.

Huh? His hands weren't even that bad, just their usual-

Oh.

He almost forgot, most people's hands still had their fingernails. Most people also didn't have bulging callouses on their knuckles, from countless splits.

"They were like that before I was put in hospital. I… work with my hands." His statement wasn't exactly wrong, but was far enough from the truth to not arouse any more concern than he'd already caused.

The kind doctor merely looked into his eyes once more, anxiety clear to see, and carried on unwrapping his arm, leaving only his right limb to be taken care of.

Though Gyoubu was mostly unbothered about the state of his body, it would be a lie to say he wasn't anxious about his right hand. The memory of it exploding in a shower of gore was at the forefront of his mind, and he certainly didn't know enough about medicine to predict what it'd turn out like. His bones had punched through his skin, right? That'd leave a mark, at least. He couldn't even be sure his quirk would still work if his hand was damaged beyond a certain point, but if it had remained at full power, even through centimetres of callouses, it'd likely be fine. Besides, Recovery Girl had one of the most powerful healing quirks in the world, he'd be fine.

It couldn't be that bad, right?

And it wasn't.

It was worse.

Nothing prepared you for seeing your hand, three of its digits crooked and misshapen.

Nothing prepared you for seeing your hand, when your ring and little finger was no longer there.

Bile rose up his throat uncontrollably, as his left hand gripped onto the rough hospital bedsheets hard enough to tear. All that was left in his fingers' place were nubs of flesh, weakly waving as he tried to move limbs that was no longer there.

"What. Happened. To. My. Hand?" He snarled at the doctor, who looked almost as horrified as he did.

"Sir… I… I don't know. Everyone who took care of you was changed every time. None of us knew what caused this. Your information was classified by the Hero Commission. I didn't even know how old you were before I came in. With your hand? I can only guess, but… it happens sometimes, where we're forced to amputate a limb because there's simply no chance of the bones recovering. I'm so sorry." It was clear that only years of experience kept her tone even remotely professional.

It made Gyoubu want to tear her eyes out. It'd be too easy, now that he wasn't in a cast. Simply grab her head with one hand an-

' _No. Breathe. Inhale, exhale.'_ Balling his hands into the sheets even harder, staying them from moving a single centimetre. Gradually, the viciously roaring desire calmed down to a faint rush, and with it, came disappointment in himself.

Who was he to lash out at the hand that feeds him, like some petulant child? He lost a couple fingers, big deal. His hand was still there, his quirk was still there, and _he_ was still there. Like a drowning man to a piece of drift wood, he clung onto anything that he still had. If he could still fight, he could still be himself.

But as much as he told himself that, he couldn't help but feel the instinctual ache of loss. And as much as he told himself it was fine, he could still almost feel the fabric against his missing fingers, if he focused on it hard enough.

Those counselling sessions were looking very, very attractive. If not from UA, perhaps from a regular therapist? He'd probably be prescribed a physical therapist, at the very least. But more than therapy, what he really needed was rest, and something to punch.

"Thank you. Can I just go home now? No more surprise injuries to reveal to me?" So sue him if he was still a slight bit bitter about it regardless of whoever's fault it was; amputees had special rights with these things, right? If they didn't, Gyoubu'd just have to be the pioneer.

"I'm the last person you needed to see, so yes, you can go home. You'll be mailed more instructions about your treatment soon, I'm sure, but for now? Just take it easy on yourself. Your clothes are over there," she pointed towards a box in the corner, "Your mother dropped them off when she visited you when you were asleep. Have a good day, and please do ask anyone if you need anything." With one more soft, concerned smile, and a look of sympathy, the doctor left the room, tools in hand.

His mother had visited him? That… wasn't supposed to have been possible. On Fridays she worked both in the day, and the night shift at her jobs, meaning she must've missed her work for him.

Somehow, that nearly hurt him more than any of the injuries.

* * *

If you asked Gyoubu what happened between getting up from the hospital bed, and arriving at home, he wouldn't be able to tell you. He wouldn't even be able to say how he got from the Shizuoka-based hospital to his home, nearly two-hundred and fifty kilometres away. All he knew was that one moment, he'd dragged his weary body from under the covers, and the next, he'd slumped down against his hallway wall.

And for a moment, he merely looked at his hand, rotating it and examining it from every angle, just to make sure his two fingers weren't simply hiding from him.

But there would be no respite. There would be no limit he could go beyond to get his fingers back. No fight he could win.

And so he sat, there on the slightly dusty floor of his apartment, with the sun setting, and slept.

* * *

"Gyou! Gyou! I'm here, are you okay? Are you safe?"

His sleep was interrupted in a second, head whipping to the side to face the woman who'd woken him up.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to call the hospital?"

His mother. Purple eyes crinkled with exhaustion and worry, she held onto his right hand as if she was afraid it'd disappear.

"I tried to stay with you the whole time, I really did! I'm so sorry. My work was going to fire me if I stayed any longer, I'm sorry." Gyoubu hadn't a clue why she was apologising for the slave-drivers she called employers.

"Come here." Was all he said, pulling his mother into a hug, as even when he was sitting on the ground they were almost the same height. She was amazingly warm, just like she always was.

"You're really ok? What about your hand?" She mumbled into his shoulder, grasping onto his body as if it was disintegrating before her eyes.

"I'm gonna be fine. How long until your next shift starts?" The weekends were the busiest times for her, barely being able to fall asleep before one of her jobs started again.

"I-I've got six or so hours, do you need anything?" Always thinking of how to serve others, that was the kind of person his mother was.

"Stay with me?"

"Of course."

And so they did, and if anyone said that Gyoubu spilled a single tear, there'd be no way to distinguish them from his mother's.

He rested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And so ends the hospital arc. I didn't plan on it being so long, but here we are! So, Gyoubu's lost two fingers. It sounds a bit pathetic of him to be so worked up over the least necessary fingers being lost, but he's mostly just in shock from it. The reason his index and middle fingers are still fine? They are usually a little stronger than the other two fingers, especially for someone like Gyoubu who's trained them to resist the forces of punching, so they got off a lil easier. Don't be fooled though, they're definitely still damaged.
> 
> As for why I chose to make my OC an amputee? Dude's arrogant as hell, and abuses birds for no real reason. He kinda deserves to be knocked down a couple pegs. He absolutely had it coming.
> 
> Why were Midoriya and Tsuyu injured more than usual? Gyoubu replaces Mineta in 1-A, so they had a slightly harder time of fighting.
> 
> There's gonna be another chapter or two dedicated to more of the aftermath of the USJ, mostly physical therapy and getting ice cream. After that? Full steam ahead to the sports festival.
> 
> Again, thank you so so so much for reading! I really value every single one of you, including the handful of people from Pakistan who somehow decided to read this.
> 
> Have an amazing day!


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